


Reversal

by ravenclawkohai



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, M/M, Role Reversal, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:58:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 50
Words: 136,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9564056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawkohai/pseuds/ravenclawkohai
Summary: Cloud is Jenova's son, leaving Sephiroth, leader of AVALANCHE, to save the world.





	1. Chapter 1

               It had all started when he was so young, when everything ached and the world seemed to tear at his edges.

               Being the town’s pariah had always been difficult. Cloud couldn’t recall how many times he had cried in his mother’s arms, hidden in corners, in the deep silence of night. He didn’t know how many times he came home bruised, how many lies he told his mother about their origins. The children were ruthless in a way only children could be. After Tifa’s fall on Mt. Nibel, the adults compounded the situation. No one stepped in on his behalf anymore. Parents watched with folded arms as their children flung words and punches, only ever calling their children back when the damage was bordering on truly dangerous.

               But he managed. He wasn’t alone, after all—his mother was always there, tirelessly supporting him. She condemned the children for their cruelty, shamed the parents for their indifference. Though Cloud always, always did his best not to worry her, her defense of him was his lifeline.

               It was only natural for things to fall apart when she died.

               It had come sudden as any Nibel storm. His mother had been outside for just too long, had gotten just wet enough in the snow to fall sick. They used the potions they could barely afford, and while they took away the pain, they didn’t cure a thing. Eventually they ran out of money for the potions. Cloud could do nothing but sit by, holding his mother’s hand as she withered away to nothing.

               When she died, he had no idea what to do. There was no one to turn to for help. He was only ten, how would he know what the next step was? He didn’t so much as close her eyes before fleeing, his own prickling with tears. It was the dead of winter, the steady snow having turned to an icestorm in the middle of the night. He hadn’t thought to grab more than a coat, his hands slowly freezing, his cheeks burning, whipped raw from the wind and constant flecks of ice pelting his face. Looking back, Cloud wasn’t sure if he didn’t have his own death wish that night. It was beyond foolish to climb Mt. Nibel at night, not to mention in the middle of a storm. The elements, from the cold to the ice to the wildlife, were stacked high against him. But he climbed the mountain anyway—what he was aiming for, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that he had decided his next step was getting as far away from town, as far up into the mountains as he could, and that he followed that decision with every scrap of determination and stubbornness he possessed.

               Years later, Cloud would call that night fate. He had no idea of how to navigate the mountains and foothills beyond his village. He simply walked and walked, turning blindly down paths, meandering without a clue as to where he was headed. When the reactor came into view, finally unveiled from the white blankness of the storm, Cloud didn’t think. The initial reason he would have given as to why he entered would be that he was simply cold and tired; he’d been hiking for hours at that point, his fingers and nose verging on frostbite. Later, he would wax poetic, insisting that he felt a pull to the reactor, that, in spite of his ignorance at the time, it had been his goal all along, that this had been his destiny from the beginning.

               He had stumbled into the reactor, only barely able to get the door open in the first place, and felt immediate relief to be out of the storm. He trembled, rubbing his hands together, breathing on them to find any snatch of heat he could. He had headed toward the most inner part of the reactor in blind hope of getting as far from the drafty door as possible. Years later, that drafty door was forgotten, that pull getting all the credit again, his claim again that of fate.

               The claim wasn’t all grandeur rewriting truth. There had been a humming, a whispering in the back of his mind as he grew closer and closer to the reactor, though he didn’t notice it over his emotional numbness. It wasn’t until he was halfway up the stairs that he heard the first, clear call.

               “My son,” the voice whispered, finally gaining enough strength to speak.

               “Mama?” Cloud had answered, freezing in place.

               “My son,” the voice repeated, growing warmer, fonder.

               “Mama,” Cloud breathed again before taking off again in a hurry, stumbling with his frozen feet but doing his best to run up the stairs.

               “Come to me,” the voice called.

               “I’m trying, Mama,” Cloud grunted, struggling with the door to the inner chamber of the reactor.

               When he finally pried the door open, he rushed into the room. The vapors from the mako stung at his eyes, the sharp smell filling his nostrils. It was an almost medicinal smell, heavy in the air, enough to be nauseating, but some part of Cloud found comfort in it. It felt familiar, like one of his mother’s lullabies, the words long forgotten but the feeling it imparted lingering in his memory.

               “Mama?” Cloud called, looking around the room. There was no way to go but up, so the boy mounted the stairs, climbing the steel dais, looking at the strange figure in the glass tube.

               “Son,” the voice called, stronger than ever. Cloud reached out one small hand, pressing it up against the glass.

               “You don’t look like Mama,” Cloud said, half-accusation, half-confusion.

               “I’m not the mother you know, but you are more my son than you ever were hers,” the voice whispered, possessive, curling around the edges of his mind like a snake.

               “Mother,” Cloud said, correcting himself. The figure didn’t move, but he could feel its smile.

               “That’s right,” she said.

               Cloud couldn’t describe the feeling, had no frame of reference for what settled in his bones. It was the purest homecoming, it was welcoming, accepting, loving, on a scale he had never felt before.

               It was reunion.

 

               Weeks passed before anyone realized something was amiss. The townsfolk knew that Ms. Strife had grown ill. They knew the way Cloud was devoted to his mother the way he was with nothing else. But as things stretched into the third week, even the neighbors couldn’t ignore things any longer. They had been lenient, but Cloud was still young, and education was mandatory even in such a small town as Nibelheim. They understood that his mother was sick, but Cloud’s truancy had gone on long enough; he would have to attend class or face consequences.

               The teacher, who had come herself to deliver the warning, knocked what had seemed a dozen times before trying the doorknob.

               “Ms. Strife?” she had called. “Cloud?”

               She withdrew as soon as the smell hit her. Even in the chill of Nibelheim, three weeks was long enough for even the best preserved corpse to begin decomposing.

               The teacher had run from the home and straight to the mayor, who hadn’t quite believed the woman’s claims. It was more likely that they had forgotten to take the trash out in their concern over Ms. Strife, though he intended to scold Cloud for not taking the garbage out—that couldn’t be good for his mother’s health.

               Even the mayor had withdrawn in disgust at finding the truth of the situation.

               The local gravekeeper had been summoned to deal with Ms. Strife’s body. The mayor built and set out a search party for the young blond; though the townspeople cared little for Cloud, in the face of his possible death, most felt a stab of guilt over the way they had allowed him to be treated over the years. No one thought to check the reactor, so certain that a child couldn’t have gone so far in the cold by himself. It was less than a week before the search party was called off, Cloud written off as a lost cause.

               The Nibelheim reactor had been built over a decade ago and had only required maintenance once, years ago. The villagers never entered the reactor, and the machine was self-monitoring, sending alerts directly to Shinra in Midgar when parts failed. Similarly, no one regularly travelled the mountain passes. Cloud adjusted quickly to life in the reactor. His mother had taught him when he was very young what plants, berries, and mushrooms were edible. He was familiar with basic traps for rabbits and squirrels. He knew how to build a fire. The necessary acts for surviving were tiresome, but not particularly difficult.

               Cloud slept in the innermost chamber of the reactor at Jenova’s feet. The two spoke frequently, Cloud answering her words aloud, or simply allowing them to wash over him, to pull him deeper and deeper into her depths. It only took weeks for him to forget the mother he had lost. All he remembered was a village full of hateful people who had mistreated him for years—if he hadn’t hated them while among them, he certainly did now. He recalled no human treating him with kindness.

He knew there were others that looked like him, but they were different. The children had pointed it out often enough, had mocked him frequently for his strange cat-slit eyes, so green they seemed to glow. It was the one of the only physical differences between them, but he clung to it as proof that he was different, that he was _better_. That the uncanny speed he sometimes displayed didn’t make him half wildlife-monster, as the children had claimed, but superior. That his clumsy habit of crushing things in hands that didn’t know their own strength did separate him from humans as the children had always claimed, but not in the way they had thought. His shame over his difference had always been enough to prevent him from turning that agility, that strength against them, had made him a doormat, an accomplice in his own mistreatment as he failed to stand up for himself.

As his mother spoke to him, he relearned the facts of his life. He stood proud of his abilities, defiant of the humans who had given him nothing but scorn. Having forgotten his mother, his hate grew unbridled. His disdain for humanity, his wish for violence against them built steadily as time passed. It was only Mother’s gentle insistence of, “Not yet,” that stilled his hand. He turned that anger to the wildlife, to the Nibel wolves at first, eventually to the dragons themselves. He wielded nothing but a pipe he had torn from where it had been dangling, almost entirely loose, from the reactor. But his speed, his strength was enough of an edge to make him truly deadly.

Cloud accepted Jenova as his mother without question. It simply didn’t cross his mind to wonder how the voice came to be in his head in the first place, and the only woman who could have offered him answers was dead. Ms. Strife hadn’t been prepared quite for this, but she would have understood the problem the second it surfaced, had she been there.

She had known there were risks when she volunteered for the program, but she had been desperate at the time, with no job, no prospects for a new one, no money for rent or food. When a friend she had within Shinra’s science department offered her a solution, she didn’t see much of a choice but to take it, or forfeit her dream of living in Midgar, finally independent from the backwater wasteland that was Nibelheim. It was supposed to be safe, and they were offering a monthly stipend that was far, far higher than she had ever earned in her minimum wage jobs. She had taken the opportunity as soon as it had been offered.

Ms. Strife had no intention of having children until she was far further along in life, but this was supposed to be clean cut. Artificial insemination, constant medical care, her every need paid for until she gave birth, when they would take the child off her hands. All she had to do was live within her means, save the excess money, and she would come out the other end with enough money to support herself until she found a new job. Simple.

She had accepted knowing the procedure was experimental. They were splicing cells, from what they wouldn’t explain, into the embryo she carried. It was the second branch of the SOLDIER experiments. One focused on developing superhuman soldiers from living recruits, the one she was a part of developing even more superior soldiers from children. She told herself that not only was she supporting herself, she was helping keep the world as she knew it safe.

It had gone well at first, but as time passed, things became complicated. She began to grow fond of the child she carried, began to care for it in a way she shouldn’t. She had been elated to find out it was a boy, had named it Cloud in secret after the sky she lost when she moved beneath the plate. The situation wore on her more and more as things progressed, but it was an overheard conversation that pushed her over the edge.

The scientist who had drawn her blood at a check-up had left the door open when he left the room. The scientists she overheard spoke with a lot of technical terms, making it a difficult conversation to follow. But when the phrase “spliced alien DNA” had been tossed out shortly followed by “mako infusions,” she had all but frozen. She told herself it must be another project, until her name was mentioned alongside the terms that made her stomach sink further and further every time they were used: alien, alien, alien, mako, mako, mako.

She had finished the appointment, told the scientist that she was pale from the bloodwork, she should have eaten more before coming, it was her fault, wouldn’t happen again.

She was damn sure it wouldn’t happen again. She left immediately, gathered what she could of her belongings and all the gil she had socked away, before immediately making a run for it.

She didn’t expect it to go as well as it did. She thought surely, someone would be following her. It wasn’t until she was in Junon, boarding a boat that would take her across the sea, that she realized and thanked her lucky stars that she had left her PHS behind. Shinra didn’t realize until it was too late just why the GPS in her phone hadn’t moved.

               Returning to Nibelheim was a risk with the reactor and mansion in town, but she didn’t know where else to turn. She was mocked thoroughly for returning from the big city with her tail between her legs, much less with a bastard child in her belly, but she could withstand the scorn. At least her conscience was clear.

               It wasn’t until her son was born, until she saw those strange, strange eyes, that she realized she hadn’t left quickly enough.


	2. Chapter 2

               Having lost their test subject, Shinra ceased looking for outside help. It was clear that the issue was that Ms. Strife wasn’t personally invested in the experiment; if she had been, even blossoming maternal instincts would have been ignored. It took some pressuring, but when Lucrecia was found to be pregnant, the department succeeded in convincing her to allow her child to be the next test subject.

               At the time, everything appeared to be going perfectly. The Jenova cells were injected and the embryo didn’t seem to reject them. Regular mako infusions, though they made Lucrecia severely ill, also seemed to be taking, with the amount being increased incrementally as the child came closer to birth. The child was born without incident, though the strange green, slitted eyes came as an unexpected surprise. The boy, who went an extended period of time referred to only as “Project S,” continued to receive mako injections without problem. The strength and speed he displayed followed suit with the parallel SOLDIER project. Mako seemed to be the key to these abilities, though the boy seemed quicker, stronger than most of the fledgling SOLDIERs. They were uncertain if this was a result of the Jenova cells or simply prolonged exposure to mako from a young age.

               It would be years until they realized that the Jenova sample they took cells from to implant into the boy were inert, dead cells. The flesh never changed in its gray hue, didn’t seem to decompose, and appeared to be healthy kept merely in refrigeration. They had long since opted to remove it from being submerged in mako, fearing that residual mako in the cells would couple with the infusions, resulting in a potentially fatal overdose.

               The child was only granted the name Sephiroth when he was released from the labs as a teenager to join the ranks of SOLDIER. He proved to be everything Hojo had hoped for. He had the wits of both parents, Lucrecia and Vincent Valentine, in addition to a speed and strength that outstripped other SOLDIERs that predated his initiation to the organization. They had reared him for combat, teaching him strategy, magic, and swordplay from the time he was capable of practicing these arts. The only flaw that they found was that the boy, even after reaching the required minimum stature, continued to age. They expected him to stop around the age of sixteen, coincidentally when he had achieved his status as General, but as he pressed toward his twenties, it became clear that their hypothesis on aging was false. It was the only area they failed in, and being based on a long-shot theory, the team of scientists shrugged off the loss easily, their successes far outstripping their failures.

               It hadn’t become clear that they had failed in more ways than one until they reached the fated Nibelheim mission. In such proximity to the reactor, Sephiroth was expected to fall under Jenova’s sway. The planted information in the basement of the mansion was meant to further destabilize him and ensure that he succumbed. Instead, when presented with what he was, Sephiroth turned to his friend, Zack Fair, whose interference had been a negative variable from the start. Confiding in the Lt. General proved to be enough for Sephiroth; it took time and effort, but the man succeeded in convincing the General of his own humanity, despite the information presented in the buried library.

               The two completed their mission with ease, not needing the help of the infantrymen at all. They quickly dispatched the mako-enhanced monsters in the area. Upon entering the reactor, it was clear what the problem was; there appeared to be a few pipes pulled loose. Though they couldn’t find the missing plumbing, they were able to buy replacements in the town. With the reactor restored to its original state, the SOLDIERs left Nibelheim without Sephiroth ever hearing so much as a whisper, without finding cause to further examine the reactor and discover its alarming secrets.

               Hojo, infuriated in his failure, ran a wide battery of tests on Sephiroth to determine what had gone wrong, claiming that the examinations were routine maintenance and nothing to be concerned over. Upon discovering the dead cells within Sephiroth’s makeup, Hojo was stunned into disbelief. His temper tantrum only occurred after examining the original Jenova sample and finding that it had, in fact, died years ago.

               He was, however, unwilling to let the matter rest. The Jenova cells had taken well enough, had enough of an effect to cause the General’s strange eyes. Hojo, grasping at straws, was convinced that if new, live cells were introduced, his plans would continue as if the hitch had never happened. Determined to keep Sephiroth in the dark, Hojo found himself relying on the infantry; any use of SOLDIERs would require Sephiroth’s approval, and questions were sure to be asked. He sent a group of them off to retrieve Jenova’s body from the reactor, only his plan hit another road block.

               The troopers never returned.

               Hojo sent group after group to find the infantrymen, losing contact with each without fail. It garnered enough attention to finally be worth SOLDIER action. Sephiroth remembered well that the mako leakage at the reactor had caused enhanced monsters and that the mako-dragon he had come across would have been well beyond the capabilities of infantrymen. He sent three Thirds and two Seconds to investigate the matter.

               When they, too, failed to return, it became clear that there was a larger problem at hand.

               Sephiroth reassembled the team he had taken to Nibelheim the first time; his trust in Zack making him a given, and having troopers at least familiar with the area was better than those who had never been to the town before. The helicopter ride from Midgar to Nibelheim, though, had been tense.

               “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Zack insisted. “Probably just more of those dragons that got into some mako. Even just a few would be a big handful.”

               Sephiroth had hummed in acknowledgement, but made no other answer. He would have been on edge either way, but the situation only made the matter worse. He had no fond memories of Nibelheim, and after discovering that library, he had intended to spend the rest of his life as far from the place as possible. However, he was honor bound, and his duty came first. He would not have more of his men die because he had been too cowardly to investigate the matter himself.

               Still, he had not expected as warm a welcome as they got.

               “Thank the gods,” said the first villager they came across. The woman had turned and run back to the town, calling, “Sephiroth’s here!”

               Heads poked out of windows as they entered the town proper. More than one door opened for homeowners to lean against their doorways, watching the group enter the village. A handful more stepped out from their homes before stopping, hesitant, in the middle of the street.

               By the time the entire group had made it to the courtyard with the water tower, the woman who had first seen them was rushing back to them, tagging along behind the mayor.

               “We tried to reach you dozens of times, but we never got a call back,” the mayor said, his arms crossed over his chest. “You could have at least told us you were coming; it would have set a lot of minds at ease.”

               “We received no word of any contact,” Sephiroth said. “We’re here to follow up on the disappearance of some of our men.”

               “Shinra,” the mayor grumbled under his breath, condemnation clear. Sephiroth ignored it.

               “What’s the problem?” Zack asked, coming to stand at Sephiroth’s side.

               “The townspeople have been disappearing one at a time, at least a month before that first group of soldiers came,” the mayor explained. “We’ve been losing people ever since.”

               “The last time we were here, there was wildlife that had gotten into spilled mako. This is likely a repeat of that situation, only to a larger extent,” Sephiroth said. “We will wipe out the enhanced monsters and repair the reactor.  You should have no problems afterward.”

               “You’d better be right,” the mayor answered, tone gruff, almost threatening. Sephiroth couldn’t find it in himself to be more than amused at the tone.

               “As it’s nearly dusk now, we will be addressing the issue first thing in the morning,” the General stated and began walking past the mayor. Despite his desire to stay in the inn, to have nothing to do with the mansion, he wouldn’t abandon his men, and there were simply not enough beds in the inn alone. “We will be in the mansion. You will be notified when the problem is resolved.”

               Zack offered an apologetic smile to the mayor, whose temper spiked at being dismissed so readily. The Lt. General and troopers followed in Sephiroth’s footsteps until they were within the mansion and split up into individual rooms. Zack and Sephiroth took one to themselves.

               “You gonna be okay?” Zack asked, coming to sit on one of the beds.

               “You have nothing to worry about,” Sephiroth answered, resting Masamune against a wall, avoiding eye contact.

               “Seph,” Zack chided gently. “That’s no answer.”

               Sephiroth took a deep breath before facing his friend and sitting across from him on the second bed.

               “I don’t want to be here,” he admitted. “But that comes secondary to solving this issue.”

               Zack offered him a smile and said, “At least there won’t be any nasty surprises this time.”

               Sephiroth nodded, weary, before ending the conversation by preparing for bed.

               Neither knew then just how wrong Zack was.


	3. Chapter 3

               Sephiroth and Zack woke with the dawn—an ingrained, military habit. Zack had mastered the art of waking with the sun, recognizing his room, and settling back to a sleep that would have eluded Sephiroth, but waking to the mansion was enough to set even his nerves on edge. They collected their infantrymen and set out for the reactor. Sephiroth quickly turned down the guide who had shown them the way to the reactor the first time; his memory was exact and failed him little, making the path easily to recollect. He led them to the reactor without a word. Upon arrival, he signaled the infantrymen to wait at the doorway and took Zack to inspect the perimeter. He found no leakage, no pools of mako that had been present the first time they had visited. It was the first thing to set him on edge, though Zack was quick to lay a hand on his shoulder.

               “They could have found a way inside the reactor, the leak might be in there,” Zack suggested.

               Despite wanting to believe it, Sephiroth found his instincts disagreeing.

               “Dragons couldn’t fit through the doorway,” he countered, already making his way back to the reactor’s entrance.

               “Maybe one of those wolves got in and the dragons ate the infected wolves,” Zack countered. It was plausible, but they both knew it sounded like a stretch.

               Sephiroth entered the door and was alarmed to find it much changed in the years since he’d last visited.

               The walls were coated liberally in what Sephiroth had seen too much to not recognize as blood. There was row after row of what looked to be tanks, each torn open, the doors hanging loosely on their hinges. He remembered seeing the pods, dismissing them as the small tanks to check the mako quality he had seen in other reactors. These, however, had what appeared to be bodies lying with at least one foot inside the tanks that doubled as their graves. He knelt to examine the nearest body, finding it much decayed, even skeletal in places. In spite of the decomposition, it was clear that what had been killed was not human. There were strange, bulging muscles on their faces, some sporting what looked to be fins, others fledgling, stunted wings that never had the room to develop. The one Zack was nudging with the toe of his boot appeared to have a tail.

               This was wrong. Very, very wrong.

               Sephiroth stood amidst the tanks, taking careful stock of his surroundings.

               Yes, there were blood splatters caked in layer after layer on the walls. But as he inspected the tank door nearest to him, he found “FAILURE” writ large in a strange, childish scrawl. Taking a step to the left, he looked at the next tank, only to find the same treatment.

               “Failure,” Zack muttered, reading a door on the far side of the room.

               “Failed to what, I wonder,” Sephiroth uttered, crossing to the stairs. He inspected each row, finding nothing but the same: decomposed, mutated bodies and the condemnation on each tank.

               Zack trailed behind, making a more careful study of the tanks. Sephiroth, seeing all he needed to see, made his way to the door at the top of the stairs.

               “We didn’t come this far in last time, did we?” Sephiroth asked as he climbed the stairs.

               “No,” Zack answered. “I don’t think we even looked in the tanks.”

               “How convenient,” Sephiroth said under his breath as he took hold of the door’s handle, yanking it open.

               His next inhale was a sharp hiss that drew Zack’s attention.

               “What is it?” the man called, taking the stairs two at a time until he stood by the General’s side. “Whoa. Holy shit.”

               “Agreed,” Sephiroth said quietly, stepping into the room.

               The layout was familiar—all reactors were built the same. There was a wide steel shelf that served as flooring, a dais with piping that ran down into the heart of the reactor, and a wide, open pool of raw mako at the bottom. That was familiar and expected.

               But the unexpected far outweighed the familiar.

               There was a tank with what appeared to be a woman floating inside with silver hair, a gray, mottled body, and a glowing red eye. The placard above the tank read “Jenova,” striking something in the heart of him. Jenova, his supposed mother, according to that library. A name he had heard uttered commonly in the labs he was raised in. The tank drew his attention again and again, a centerpiece that continued to draw his attention, but it was arguably the least dramatic difference in the reactor.

               It was clear someone was living inside the chamber. There was a makeshift bed built at the foot of the tank, cobbled together from wolf pelts. Bones littered the room, picked clean and, in some cases, carefully bleached in the sun. There were strands of what appeared to be teeth and vertebrae and feathers strung up from the piping. There was a fire pit, formed out of what appeared to be panels from the reactor, beaten into shape, with ash and bone and scraps of fur littering the bottom. There were large gashes in the walls, each panel peppered with indents, more than one steaming pipe that clearly had a section missing.

               The decoration of it, the neatness made it clear to Sephiroth that this was no beast, but a person of some sort. His head was spinning a mile a minute to attempt to find an explanation. Perhaps someone had left the town, set out on their own. The reactor would be the only relatively hospitable structure within a reasonable distance from the town. While the décor was gruesome, it wasn’t beyond his stretch of reasoning to understand. The pelts had been tanned properly, which would have required a practiced, decidedly human hand. He had seen more than one mystical “doctor” in Wutai with bones and feathers strung up as decoration. Perhaps Nibelheim had a similar tradition, and this all spoke to nothing more than folk-belief, a backwards practice that tended to linger in small towns such as this.

               He had been ready to believe it until his eyes settled on the decidedly human skulls at the foot of the tank. They had been cleaned, likely by the practiced hand responsible for the rest of the room. In the corner, tossed haphazardly, was a small pile of guns, side by side with a neat line of SOLDIER issue swords, leaned up against the reactor walls.

               “I don’t think we’re dealing with wildlife here,” Zack said, tone clearly disturbed.

               “No,” Sephiroth uttered. “No, I don’t think we are.”

               The two made a slow inspection of the room, occasionally calling out what they noticed to the other. As their search progressed, Zack followed a ladder down to the lower level of the reactor.

               “Seph? I think you need to see this,” Zack called.

               Sephiroth took a deep breath to settle himself before he followed his lieutenant down.

               “I think that officially rules out local monsters,” Sephiroth said quietly as he looked around the lower level.

               The word “mother” was scrawled across every available surface in what could only be blood, in that same childish hand that had declared each mutant to be a failure in the antechamber of the reactor. More than once, the words overlapped, making it hard to read in places, though the meaning was not lost.

               It was similarly not lost to them that this level was littered with very human skeletons; the skulls had been carefully set on the dais, but these had been tossed away, unwanted and unnecessary. It sickened Sephiroth to hear the crunch of bone beneath his feet as he walked forward to examine the walls. All the writing was long since dry, yet he trailed his fingers over it regardless, in grotesque wonder.

               “Who did this?” Zack asked, his voice shaking at the edges.

               They had both seen more than they cared to recall in Wutai. But this—this was outside even their wide expertise.

               “At least we know the cause of the missing people,” Sephiroth said, his tone even, too even—it fell dead flat as if he was far away from what they were seeing.

               “What do we do now?” Zack asked.

               “Wait for whoever it is to come home.”

 

               Despite being raised far from Shinra’s labs, Cloud followed the projected path the scientists had formulated much better than Sephiroth ever had. He had an edge in speed and strength, and what he lacked in formal training, he made up for in sheer wildness. After Ms. Strife’s untimely passing when he was ten, Cloud was raised entirely by Jenova, her voice his guiding light. The act of survival had been cemented in him long ago by Ms. Strife; he required no new teaching on that front. But the art of the slaughter, of wading in the gore of his kill was something he learned slowly. Cloud had been, in his core, a soft-hearted boy. He hated the way he was treated by the villagers, but hated the individuals very little. He was warm through and through, and his fondness for his mother colored all of his memories.

Yet as Jenova sapped his memories, overlaid herself on Ms. Strife’s impression, all that warmth seeped away as year after year separated him from Nibelheim. Left without another human soul to speak with, abandoned entirely to Jenova’s influence, she made quick work of destroying the boy he had once been. He had started off with small traps, catching rabbits to survive. When he upgraded slowly from that one, loose, rusted pipe to bigger, heavier varieties, he moved from those little traps to catching his meals with his own hands. He was slowly damaging the delicate balance of wildlife in the mountains, killing a new Nibel wolf each day, eating his fill in the evening and leaving the rest to rot, seeking a new kill solely for the thrill of the hunt each day.

He moved his way slowly up from those rabbits to the Nibel dragons. The older he grew, the more he killed for nothing more than the fun of it, egged on constantly by Jenova. He began to keep mementos, fascinated by the trappings of death, keeping the tokens not for religious, spiritual purposes, but as trophies, as reminders of violence. When he walked around that room at the core of the reactor, he let his fingers trail over the suspended bones fondly, recalling the way his blood sang in his ears, the way the spray of blood across his face made him feel more alive than anything else did.

Jenova knew she had plenty of time and worked those years to her advantage. She eased Cloud slowly into this life, into the destruction, into the hate of mankind. She knew full well that to demand slaughter from that kind-hearted boy would have snapped even her strong hold on him. But she had plenty of time. She could afford to wait. And oh, watching him take his first human kill had been well worth the time and effort. Cloud had reveled in it. He had marveled at the feeling of warm blood against his skin, of the crunch of bone and the tearing of flesh.

Jenova eased him into massacre with one kill after another, spread out across months, slowly working those gaps down to weeks. There simply hadn’t been enough hate in his heart to turn Cloud against the world in the way that would be required for him to summon Meteor. No, she had to build him up to even that first kill against a hated bully. Turning him against even the town that had despised him was slow going, but she was patient. She could wait. And it had more than paid off.

By the time Hojo sent his troopers, Cloud was no stranger to murder. He’d grown accustomed to it, even grew impatient for the next kill, stayed only by Jenova’s quiet insistence that he couldn’t ruin the whole town at once, not yet—better to stretch things out, leave Nibelheim in fear, pick them off one by one and truly savor it. Those troopers had been the first true test of Cloud’s abilities, and he had passed in flying colors. He leapt from person to person in inhuman jumps, flying between the troopers, the ground, and the tree trunks he used as platforms to leap back into the fray. He kept their weapons at Jenova’s insistence—he was more than happy with his pipes, but she insisted that the more weapons he understood, the stronger he would be. Learning a rifle had been slow going, but by the time Sephiroth had sent that team of SOLDIERs, he had mastered the art.

Not that he used the rifles against that team. No, he preferred his pipes, loved the intimacy of it, the sheer brutality. Guns left too much distance, left him too divorced from the kill. Sephiroth had been raised for war, had been taught precision and finesse. Cloud had been raised for slaughter, taught to butcher, to leave as much fear in his wake as possible. When he took the swords from those SOLDIERs, he found a weapon he preferred even more. He wielded them as blunt weapons at first, until he found his way around the edges, the effect of slashes and stabs. It took dragons to find him an equal opponent, but they taught him patience, the art of how to parry and block, of defense as well as offense.

Jenova had realized that things were escalating when the SOLDIERs had been sent. It relieved her to know that she had done everything in her power to prepare Cloud. Arguably, he had progressed further than even Sephiroth. Many, many years ago, she had shown Cloud the natural mako fountain in the heart of a mountain. At her behest, he had begun drinking from it, first in sips, then in gulps. Sephiroth had his carefully monitored injections; Cloud had Jenova’s intuition and a never-ending supply in that fountain, ready for him the second he was recovered from his last dose so he could have yet another. Cloud followed Hojo’s projection, despite its basis in weak hypothesis: he was nearing twenty-five now, yet stayed frozen in the body of a sixteen-year-old, never aging a day further.

He lacked Sephiroth’s formal training, but he was ready when the time came. When Sephiroth landed in Nibelheim, Jenova was more than aware. She urged the blond up and into action, shooing him from the nest he had made. Finally, finally she was giving him permission. He had been waiting for this day for years. He tore from the reactor with one of the standard issue SOLDIER blades in hand, a few mastered materia glinting in their slots at the hilt. The grin on his face was feral.

It was finally time.

 

Sephiroth and Zack had waited there for three hours, by the clocks on their PHS screens. Zack had finally insisted that they leave the reactor, for their troopers if nothing else. The men had been standing outside in the cold the whole time, by themselves, in a strange, monster-filled wilderness. It had to be unsettling at best, likely closer to terrifying. Sephiroth relented and followed Zack outside.

No one else seemed to notice it, but Sephiroth was well used to being the first one aware of things. It had only taken a few seconds of him being outside for the smell to register.

“No,” he had said before breaking into a run, headed for the rise of the nearest hill.

“Sephiroth!” Zack had called, following closely in his footsteps.

He nearly ran into Sephiroth’s back as the General stopped short.

Having skidded to a halt, he scooted out from behind his superior, finally seeing what the other man did.

“No,” Zack said, Sephiroth’s sickened echo.

Below them, miles away, Nibelheim burned.


	4. Chapter 4

Sephiroth and Zack had waited there for three hours, by the clocks on their PHS screens. Zack had finally insisted that they leave the reactor, for their troopers if nothing else. The men had been standing outside in the cold the whole time, by themselves, in a strange, monster-filled wilderness. It had to be unsettling at best, likely closer to terrifying. Sephiroth relented and followed Zack outside.

No one else seemed to notice it, but Sephiroth was well used to being the first one aware of things. It had only taken a few seconds of him being outside for the smell to register.

“No,” he had said before breaking into a run, headed for the rise of the nearest hill.

“Sephiroth!” Zack had called, following closely in his footsteps.

He nearly ran into Sephiroth’s back as the General stopped short.

Having skidded to a halt, he scooted out from behind his superior, finally seeing what the other man did.

“No,” Zack said, Sephiroth’s sickened echo.

Below them, miles away, Nibelheim burned.

 

 

Sephiroth, Zack, and their infantrymen got to the town as quickly as they could, only to find there was little to be salvaged. Every building was ablaze and the people they found were either unconscious or dead. Sephiroth had Zack and the troopers begin to pull the people they could find to safety as he equipped a mastered ice materia. While Sephiroth was more known for his precision with spells, he was more than capable of casting over vast areas. Slowly but surely, the ice, melting immediately, put out the fire, leaving the town a smoking wreck. He left the troopers to care for the readily visible victims, giving one of them his cure materia and a small stash of potions to help those that were still alive. He sent Zack to search the buildings for other survivors; he was the only other enhanced member of the group, making him the only one with a shot at survival if one of the buildings collapsed.

Sephiroth understood the importance of caring for the victims, but he also knew that his time and skillset was best used finding the cause of the blaze. There were no footprints to follow—the snow on the ground had turned to slush in the heat and there were dozens of trails from the townsfolk who had attempted to flee. His search led him to the outskirts of the village, where he found what was arguably more disturbing than the blaze. Someone, likely whoever began the fire, had been picking off the villagers as they attempted to flee, leaving their bodies strewn haphazardly around the perimeter. Further still from the borders of town he found a second fire: what looked like every vehicle in town, including the helicopter he had rode in on, was burning with occasional pops and bursts as gas tanks were ruptured, building the fire ever higher.

It didn’t take much deductive reasoning to realize that whoever was living in the reactor was the arsonist. The sloppy, brutal murders matched the gore of attacker’s home. Furthermore, the person at fault clearly had no qualms with killing the villagers if he had been picking them off one at a time for months.

What he didn’t understand was the why. Nibelheim was a harmless town; the people had a tendency for stubbornness, but outside of that, he had witnessed nothing to justify such ire. It was possible that the attacker had selected a town at random to terrorize, but the sheer brutality of what they had seen spoke to a personal grudge. At least, he hoped that was the case. If this was impersonal, they had a capable, sadistic killer on their hands that would be likely become a terror before being stopped.

Sephiroth pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and fished his PHS out of his pocket. He ordered an investigative team be sent, preferably with at least one Turk as a member, as well a second helicopter to retrieve him and his team. He snapped the phone shut and returned to the village. They would have at least six hours before either the team or the helicopter would make it to Nibelheim. In that window of opportunity, he needed to find the culprit. If he failed, the individual would be too far away with too much of a head start for Sephiroth to find them. There was no point in staying in the area longer; the arsonist could go in any direction and Sephiroth didn’t have the faintest hint as to where they would set out for.

“Zack,” Sephiroth called as he reentered town. His lieutenant looked up at him, stepping away from the survivors and troopers.

“I found a few more, but most of the town was lost. Everyone who made it through will survive,” Zack explained, falling in step with Sephiroth.

“Stay here and help the troopers,” Sephiroth ordered. “I’m going to return to the reactor and see if our arsonist returns home before leaving the area.”

“You think they’re the same person?” Zack asked, incredulous.

“To our knowledge, there isn’t anyone else in the area with a taste for Nibel blood,” Sephiroth countered.

“You sure you don’t want backup?” Zack offered, only for the other man to shake his head.

“The kills have been sloppy. It seems whoever it is has taken up one of the SOLDIER’s sword, but has had no formal training. Should it come to a fight, they should be dispatched quickly.”

“If you’re sure,” Zack said, clearly still hesitant.

“A helicopter and investigative team will be here in six hours,” Sephiroth explained. “If I’m not back by then, I will call and update you. I doubt I will find a trail, but anything’s possible.”

“Good luck,” Zack called as he stopped with the troopers, watching Sephiroth’s back grow further away.

The General nodded briefly, but continued on without a word.

He hadn’t expected a trail, but he was certainly not upset to have found one.  It was clear that their perpetrator didn’t expect there to be another living person in the area—that or they were very, very confident in themselves and felt no need for stealth. After all, he wasn’t following just footprints, but a trail of blood. The gore tapered off the further he got, eventually leaving him with nothing but footprints, but the snow held the trail well. There was no storm to provide fresh snow and hide the trail, no wind to blow drifts over it. This was going better than expected, was even easy. It was easy enough to set Sephiroth on edge.

What he hadn’t expected was for a boy to drop from a tree directly in front of him, sword point at his throat, about halfway to the reactor.

How hadn’t he heard him? No one ever succeeded in sneaking up on him before.

Sephiroth held his place, not wanting to begin a fight he didn’t need to, but confident that he could disarm the boy before his throat could be slit.

At least, that’s why he told himself he froze in place. What had sent a shiver through him in reality was the pure sight of his opponent.

The boy couldn’t be older than his mid-teens, his blond hair in obvious disarray. There was blood splattered across his face, his arms red to the elbow, not to mention the state his clothes were in. In his spare hand was a head he held by the hair, seemingly the woman inside the reactor. It would have been chilling regardless. But to see his own eyes reflected back at him, eyes that he had never seen in another person, froze him solid.

The blond held his own position as well, the two studying the other in synch. Slowly, the boy rose from his crouch, keeping the tip of the sword in position. He tilted his head to the side, brow furrowing, curious and confused.

“Brother?” the blond asked. Before Sephiroth could get a word out, he shook his head. “Not brother, but still reunion. Fate.”

“Are you responsible for the burning of Nibelheim?” Sephiroth asked.

Cloud scoffed. “Disgusting, pathetic, inferior. Hateful. It was long overdue.”

“Why?” Sephiroth said, eyes narrowing. Was there more to this than he thought?

He was ignored.

“You,” Cloud breathed, almost awestruck. A smile slowly bloomed on his face. “You aren’t like them. Not quite Her son, no, but not human. Better.”

Sephiroth’s blood ran cold. His eyes narrowed further.

“Are you the one responsible for the library?” Sephiroth asked. It was the only connection, the only place that echoed the blond’s conviction of his inhumanity. He reminded himself of Zack’s words, the conversation they had had after he discovered the library. Zack knew him better, he had to be right. But some place deep inside him shuddered, afraid that the stranger was right.

“Library? No,” Cloud said almost absently. “But you don’t belong with them. You’re different, above them. Not brothers, but partners. Destiny. They must be purged, but you deserve the stars. You have a place with us, Mother and I. The rest will fall to ruin, but you are to be saved. You will ride into the cosmos with us, we will find a new home, together. We belong together.”

This was getting him nowhere. The blond was nearly incoherent, and what was coherent was nothing but disturbing. There was no reason to stand around and listen.

Sephiroth reached up to knock the blade away as fast as he could.

He was stunned to find that he not only missed, but that the boy had just moved the sword to above his heart, pressing forward enough to draw blood.

“Please don’t,” Cloud said, sounding confused and heartbroken. “I don’t want to kill you. Mother doesn’t want you dead either.”

“Then don’t kill me,” Sephiroth countered. He was still reeling from the blond’s speed. No one was faster than he was. What was happening?

The blond stopped, puzzled. He bit at his lip in thought, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Whose side are you on?” the boy asked.

“My own,” Sephiroth answered. It was neutral, it was hopefully nonthreatening, it was mostly true. His blood was pumping fast, almost ringing in his ears. He couldn’t believe he was haggling for his life this way. Is this how others felt when they went up against him?

Slowly, the blond withdrew his sword.

“Not quite right, but good enough. A start. Something we can work with,” Cloud said, voice a thoughtful hum. “You’ll choose right in the end. You’ll see that you’re better than they are and find your way home.”

Sephiroth knew his opponent was faster than he was. It was unclear if he had any other advantages, but he stood by his initial deduction. The blond was sloppy with a sword—even his grip was wrong. All he had to do was get Masamune into position and he could settle this.

The second he drew his blade, the blond flipped up into the trees.

“Disappointing,” he said, looking down at Sephiroth, unfazed by the fact that Masamune’s reach was long enough that Sephiroth could still reach him. “But still workable. You aren’t beyond saving.”

With that, the blond leapt from his branch to another tree, travelling through the treetops quicker than Sephiroth could follow.

What had he gotten himself into this time?


	5. Chapter 5

Sephiroth returned to the village to find Zack waiting impatiently.

“So?” he asked. “What’d you find?”

“I found our killer,” he said, glancing over to where the troopers and survivors sat about a dozen feet away.

Zack peered around his shoulders.

“Where are they?”

“He got away.”

Zack froze. He turned to look at Sephiroth in astonishment. The General adamantly refused to meet his eye.

“You found the killer, who barely knows how to use a sword, and he _got away_?” Zack couldn’t sound more incredulous.

“We aren’t dealing with the average threat here.”

“Well no shit,” Zack countered. “What the hell happened?”

“He snuck up on me,” Sephiroth explained, staring at a trooper who was casting cure after cure on a barely breathing woman. “I didn’t hear him coming.”

“That’s a first,” Zack said in wonder. “What else happened?”

“He was faster than me. He had his blade to my throat before I so much as knew he was there and moved fast enough that I couldn’t so much as touch his sword,” Sephiroth answered, tone distant.

Zack stared at him in silence long enough that Sephiroth eventually looked at him.

“So we’re fucked,” he declared.

“For now,” Sephiroth said, the denial he longed to offer stinging the back of his tongue.

“Did he say anything else?” Zack asked.

“A lot of nonsense, mainly,” Sephiroth answered, looking away from his friend again. “A lot about fate and that we belonged together. That I was more than human and that humanity should be eradicated, if I understood correctly. He said something about living amongst the stars and his mother. It was difficult to follow.”

Zack hummed thoughtfully.

“It doesn’t sound good,” he offered.

“No,” Sephiroth said. “No it doesn’t.”

Zack laid his hand on Sephiroth’s arm, saying, “You know you don’t belong with him, right? You’re just as human as I am.”

Sephiroth wanted to snap at him, to insist that he knew that, that he wasn’t fool enough to listen.

Instead, he said, “He had my eyes.”

“He what?” Zack asked, thrown off guard.

“They were the exact same,” he answered. “The same shade, the same glow, the same pupils. I’ve never seen anyone else with my eyes.”

Zack took hold of his other arm, stepping in front of the man, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Zack insisted. “You’re nothing like him—even if you can’t trust yourself enough to see it, I do.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sephiroth countered, “or else we’re truly fucked.”

Zack smiled at his friend’s rare use of profanity, clapping his hands on the taller man’s shoulders.

“I’m always right,” he grinned.

Sephiroth only rolled his eyes before making his way to the troopers to help cure the last of the injured.

It was hours yet before the team and helicopter arrived. Once they landed, Sephiroth sent Zack and the troopers to the helicopter, pulling Tseng, the lone Turk assigned to the mission, to the side.

“The fire is the least of our worries, though it would still be beneficial to nail down the details of how the blaze came about,” Sephiroth explained. “We’re dealing with an enemy enhanced enough that he appears to be my equal. Male, 5’7”, blond with eyes like mine. He was last seen headed south-east, though he may have changed course at any time. His initial grudge appears to be with the Nibelheim village itself, though it is likely that he intends to target humanity at large.”

“How did you find this information?” Tseng asked.

“We had a brief run-in,” he explained, leaving out the obvious fact that the suspect had succeeded in escaping. “He doesn’t appear to be very lucid, though that doesn’t hinder his penchant for violence. If not detained, he poses a threat to Shinra at large, at a minimum.”

“Any further details?” Tseng said, tone as even as ever.

“No,” Sephiroth lied. The other information wasn’t pertinent to the investigation.

“We’ll be in touch once we’ve found something,” Tseng said, gesturing for the investigative team to begin their work. Sephiroth and the Turk nodded at each other briefly before parting ways.

Zack looked at him questioningly as he entered the helicopter. Sephiroth shook his head and took his seat. They were doing everything they could, and for now, that would have to be enough.

 

It was hours after Sephiroth and his team landed that he received word from Tseng. It appeared that the blaze was caused by multiple casts of a fire materia and that the perpetrator waited at the edge of the town to kill those who escaped. They confirmed that the skulls of the troopers and SOLDIERs sent were accounted for within the reactor, as well as a count of what were likely the missing Nibelheim villagers. The only piece that required further investigation was the strange, headless woman who was found in the tank. The body was sent to the Science Department for further inspection; Tseng would let Sephiroth know when more information was available.

Though his life returned to normal, Sephiroth had difficulty shaking the events at Nibelheim. He knew it was only a matter of time before another location was hit, and while he was a patient man, the high stakes made this wait wear on his nerves. Once the blond resurfaced, they would have a limited window to track him down and detain him before he was lost to the winds again. The pressure was on.

He told himself that was the only reason why he was concerned. Yet he had begun to lose sleep, and try to deny it as he did, he knew in his gut that the boy’s words haunted him. When he had originally found that library, when he had turned to Zack for support, it was because he feared that he was less than human. That his differences made him inferior, that humanity was some far off goal he would never achieve, condemned for eternity to always be lesser. But the blond’s take on the matter brought the subject back up for debate. No, he wasn’t subhuman. But perhaps, just maybe, he was something greater. His innate abilities, his heightened senses, his wits—he had surpassed reasonable expectations even for enhanced humans ever since he had been released from the labs and continued to do so with each mission he went on. Perhaps he was more than a prodigy.

He denied the thoughts at every turn. There were enhanced humans, and he was certainly one of them, but they were all human at their core. Sephiroth knew that. He had his weaknesses—his temper, his callousness, his abysmal social skills. He had as many drawbacks as he did advantages, just as every other human did. He successfully argued himself around, keeping a firm hold on his longing to believe the arsonist. After all, even if he was somehow more than human, he had his own sense of morality. Sure, he had done horrible things, especially during the Wutai War. But those were orders; he had never so much as considered murder for the simple pleasure of it. He was far from fainthearted, but the thought reveling not in the act of the fight, but in the blood and gore made even his stomach turn.

Sephiroth thought he was being subtle. After all, he was completely unreadable to the overwhelming majority of people; the difference between his expression when pleased, angry, or upset were just small variations on the same stoicism. Zack was the only one ever able to read him, but he had been so sure that if he just made a conscious effort to keep his face schooled, he would evade even his lieutenant’s attention.

Which was why, when Zack knocked briefly on his office door before immediately entering, without waiting for a response as usual, he thought little of it. The man had dropped into the chair on the other side of his desk. Sephiroth didn’t so much as pause his typing.

“Yes?” he asked, eyes still glued to his screen.

“Are you okay?” Zack asked, bluntly, without prelude. It was enough to force Sephiroth to look up.

“Of course,” Sephiroth said. Without thinking, he followed with, “Why do you ask?”

Stupid, stupid question. Drawing out the conversation was the last thing he should have done.

“You’ve been off ever since we got back from Nibelheim,” Zack answered. “You’re withdrawn and quiet, always stuck in your own head, and I can barely get two words out of you.”

“I’ve never been particularly talkative, Zack,” Sephiroth countered, looking back at his computer screen.

“You’ve also never been _this_ quiet,” Zack said. “Is this about what the arsonist said to you?”

His silence was answer enough.

“Seph?” he asked. “Come on, look at me.”

He was reluctant to comply, but met Zack’s eyes regardless.

“You’re human,” Zack insisted. “In a lot of ways, you’re one of the most human people I know. Your eyes are all you have common with that killer. I promise you.”

“While a pleasant sentiment,” Sephiroth said, turning his eyes back to his screen, “we both know that isn’t quite true.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Zack said, crossing his arms. “You’ve never, ever liked killing. You’re willing to follow orders, you like the fight and the strategy of war, but I was with you in Wutai, remember? There was more than one day you came back looking haunted.”

Sephiroth paused, thinking over Zack’s words. He had a point.

“And that’s all it takes? A conscience that I’ll ignore when told to?”

“Stop that,” Zack insisted. “You went out of your way to make that war as painless as it could be. As bad as you were at it, you always tried to negotiate. You never killed anyone who wasn’t fighting against you. Sometimes push came to shove and we all did more than we were proud of. That’s war, Seph, and it’s not your fault.”

Silence passed between them, Sephiroth’s hands hovering over his keyboard, but not moving an inch.

“And you believe that?” Sephiroth asked, just the barest hint of hesitation in his tone. He looked up to see a wide smile on Zack’s face.

“I know it,” he said.

The tension slid from Sephiroth’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Sephiroth said, looking back at his computer, voice quieter. He never was very good at expressing gratitude.

“Any time,” Zack said, standing up. He clapped one hand to Sephiroth’s shoulder before leaving the room.

The conversation was enough to firmly cement his belief in his own humanity before they heard word of a second attack. Sephiroth, honestly, couldn’t quite believe their luck. Either the blond was supremely confident, ignorant, or foolish. After all, why else would he target Kalm, a town so close to Shinra’s center of power?

They had received word of the attack almost immediately after it had begun. Sephiroth had called in Zack and two Seconds as his support, having everyone on board a helicopter within minutes. They could have driven to the town, but every second counted, and they couldn’t afford to put themselves at any further disadvantages.

“You think it’s the same person?” Zack had asked as they took their seats, belting themselves in.

“The level of violence fits what information we have on him,” Sephiroth said. “It was also only a matter of time before we saw an event like this again.”

Zack had only nodded as the helicopter began to ease itself off the ground; his voice would have been lost to the sound of the rotors anyway.

Sephiroth stood in the exit of the chopper as they grew closer, trying to take in the situation. There were a few roofs on fire, but only a handful. It looked like it had yet to spread across the town—hopefully it had only just started, putting the arsonist squarely within the town’s borders.

Sephiroth jumped the last ten feet from the helicopter, gesturing his SOLDIERs to follow. He began marching toward town, waiting until the helicopter was far enough away that his men could hear him.

“Seconds, get that fire under control. Cast your ice spells on the edges of it to contain it before you focus on putting it out completely.”

“Yessir!” the answered in synch.

“Zack,” Sephiroth continued. “We split up and find our man. Do not engage him alone.  Keep your PHS on hand to call for back up.”

“Understood,” the Lt. General said, his usual joviality missing from his tone.

“Move out,” Sephiroth ordered, passing into Kalm proper.

It was arguable that things were better in Kalm than they had been in Nibelheim. The arsonist was still sloppy, but he appeared to have killed most of the townspeople before setting the fire. There were fewer survivors, but a slit throat was less painful than burning to death, though it was only a very small mercy. Sephiroth set off for the northern edge of town, leaving Zack to search the southern area where they had landed.

Sephiroth picked his way through bodies, glad now for his experience in Wutai; he’d seen enough horror that this massacre left him unfazed. He finished patrolling the streets and was about to begin inspecting the houses themselves when his attention was pulled.

“Lost one,” called his missing blond from where he was perched on a rooftop. “You came quicker than expected.”

“If you were looking for my attention, you have it,” Sephiroth answered.

The boy jumped from the roof, landing lightly a dozen feet from him.

“I chose the right town, then,” he said, approaching at a leisurely pace. “You’ve had time. Have you realized where you belong yet?”

“I am where I belong,” the General countered, earning him a laugh in return.

“Under the thumb of a human?” Cloud mocked. “You were always destined for better. Deny it all you want—you’ll see I’m right in the end.”

“Why are you doing this?” Sephiroth asked.

“For Mother. To give humanity what it deserves. Fate.”

“An unreasonable answer.”

Cloud grinned, a wild thing.

“For you. For reunion.”

It sent a chill down Sephiroth’s spine. It was enough to move him to action.

Cloud had his sword raised to block Sephiroth’s initial strike, but his grip was off, his stance incorrect. Sephiroth twisted his wrist, disarming him with ease.

The way the blond bared his teeth made him look more wolf than human.

Sephiroth was glad his assessment of his enemy’s skills with a sword was correct. Yet the fact of the matter was that he was straining to keep up.

Cloud twisted and turned and leapt, dodging Sephiroth’s blows. Yet, more than once, the General was able to nick him, though it was a near thing. As the battle drew on, the sloppier the blond got. Each brush he had with Masamune slowed him—he was clearly not used to taking damage. Similarly, he was too used to overpowering his enemies quickly; though his endurance was naturally high from his enhancements, it was nowhere near high enough to compete with Sephiroth’s years of practice.

When he stumbled and fell, Sephiroth was quick to take the opportunity. He dropped Masamune, dug one knee between the boy’s shoulder blades, and wrenched his arms behind his back.

With relief, he pulled out his PHS, calling the helicopter to land.

“Lost one,” the blond said with a wheeze, Sephiroth’s knee limiting his lung capacity. “You should leave while you can.”

“You aren’t in a position to be making threats,” the General answered. It earned him a high laugh and the return of that feral grin.

“No one ever told you not to bring danger home with you?”

Sephiroth frowned, but offered no response. Slotting the necessary materia into his bracer, he cast Sleep over his captive, watching him slump. He gathered the boy in his arms, tossing him over a shoulder as he went to rejoin his men.

“That him?” Zack asked, looking up from the man he was healing.

Sephiroth only offered a nod, carrying him back to the helicopter.

Something in his gut knew this was wrong. It was clear his opponent had put up the best fight he could, but everything was still easy. Too easy.

He spent the ride back to Midgar in silence. It took longer than he cared to admit for his nerves to settle.


	6. Chapter 6

               Cloud woke only once during the return trip to Midgar, Sephiroth recasting his Sleep spell before he could so much as raise his head. The SOLDIERs spent the entire ride looking between the sleeping boy slumped on the floor and themselves. Zack watched the captive and Sephiroth equally. The general kept his eyes trained on the blond the entire ride, Zack easily seeing the nervous tension in his shoulders. Everyone had witnessed the massacre at Kalm, and though the boy looked peaceful, almost angelic in sleep, that deceptive innocence only made his actions more disturbing.

               No one enjoyed return trip.

               The second they touched down, Sephiroth had their prisoner tossed over his shoulder, walking quickly into Shinra Tower. Zack followed on his heels, almost jogging to keep pace.

               “What are you gonna do with him?” he asked.

               “Find a SOLDIER-proof cell and lock him in it,” Sephiroth answered.

               “And after that?”

               “Something is clearly wrong with him,” Sephiroth said, speaking slowly in thought. “We find out what we can and attempt to rehabilitate him as we would any prisoner. Failing that, we keep him in his cell, away from anyone he could do harm.”

               Zack frowned. He knew the threat they were dealing with, but lifelong imprisonment still didn’t sit well with him.

               Sephiroth glanced toward his friend before saying, “He hasn’t given us any other options.”

               Zack rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

               “I know,” he admitted. “I know. That doesn’t mean I like it.”

               “You don’t need to.”

               They walked the rest of the way in silence. Despite their mutual distaste, both knew that the only cells that could hold the blond were in the Science Department; after all, those were the only cells that could hold Sephiroth. He was loathe to return to the rooms he had spent so much time in before he left the labs, but there were no other options.

               When he entered the lab, Zack still following in his footsteps, he breezed past the receptionist who called after them, angry and affronted—they weren’t allowed in, they didn’t have an appointment, they couldn’t disturb the scientist’s work. Neither SOLDIER could care less; neither wanted to be there in the first place. The place was rank with old memories for Sephiroth and Zack, the only person Sephiroth had described his childhood to, hated it on principle. They would only be present as long as was necessary.

               Sephiroth followed the long-familiar path to the cells, brushing past scientists that echoed the receptionist’s word, having to stop more than once as one brazenly stood in their path. However, it didn’t take more than a cold look and a raised eyebrow for the scientists to wither and step out of his way.

               He reached the cells, deposited the blond within the largest (he had spent too much time locked away, knew too well the effect those small cells had, didn’t have it in him to be so unnecessarily inhumane), watched as the automatic lock whirred and slid home, coming to stand outside by Zack’s side to watch the captive through the reinforced, one-way glass wall at the front of the cell.

               Sephiroth flipped open his PHS, dialed quickly, and held the phone to his ear.

               “Tseng,” he greeted. “I have the arsonist in custody—he’s in a cell in the Science Department. He should be waking shortly.”

               He snapped the phone closed again, eyes still trained on the boy.

               “Calling in the Turks already?” Zack asked.

               “They’re the ones best equipped to interrogate him,” Sephiroth answered. “They have the best odds of pulling information out of him—we can only hope it will be sensible.”

               “I don’t recall requiring a specimen that needed the cells,” Hojo interrupted, stepping into the hallway, hands behind his back.

               “This isn’t a Science Department concern,” Sephiroth dismissed, refusing to look at the scientist. “The use of your cells is all the aid required from your department.”

               Zack watched as Hojo bristled, clearly offended at the attitude he was given.

               “You cannot—”

               “Actually, you’ll find that I can,” Sephiroth said, cutting him off. “If you find issue with the situation, I suggest you speak to the President.”

               Hojo straightened, pushing his glasses up his nose, with a look cold enough to rival Sephiroth’s before turning and leaving the way he came.

               “Was that a good idea?” Zack asked as soon as Hojo was out of earshot.

               “Perhaps not,” Sephiroth admitted, “but it was satisfying, and the matter _is_ out of his jurisdiction.”

               Zack shook his head with a smile—if Sephiroth found it in himself to raise a little hell just for the fun of it, things weren’t as bad off as he thought.

               The two watched the captive in silence, waiting for something to happen, growing more and more on edge the longer they stood watch. Zack wasn’t the only one who started when the blond moved.

               Cloud’s head shot up the second his eyes opened. He rolled off the low bunk to a crouch on the floor, inspecting his surroundings. He stood slowly, walking around the cell, his fingertips trailing over the walls. When he reached the glass wall he stopped, pressing his hand against it.

               Sephiroth told himself it couldn’t be anything other than coincidence that the blond stopped directly in front of him.

               “Lost one,” he said, tone a sing-song. “You’re there, aren’t you?”

               Zack looked between his friend and the captive. Sephiroth refused to meet his eyes.

               “We both know this won’t hold me forever,” he continued, voice near crooning. “You know what I want, and I’ll get it eventually, one way or another. The question is only how high the body count will be before I do.”

               “What he wants?” Zack asked in a whisper.

               “My help,” Sephiroth answered.

               “If you want to drag it out, all you need to do is tell me,” the blond said as if he was being the reasonable one. “We can go nice and slow if that’s how you want it. Time is on my side.”

               Suddenly, his head jerked to the left. Sephiroth and Zack followed his gaze to see Tseng, flanked by Rude and Reno, coming into the hall.

               How the hell had he heard them approach through the cell walls?

               “Has he said anything?” Tseng asked as Rude and Reno opened the door to the cell. The blond backed away quickly, standing against the far wall as they checked the table and chairs in the center of the room to be sure they were still securely bolted to the floor.

               “Nothing he won’t repeat,” Sephiroth said.

               As Tseng nodded and entered the room, Hojo reappeared, this time with a clipboard in hand.

               “I thought I was clear about your department’s role in this,” Sephiroth sniped as the professor came to stand at his side.

               “And I’m not participating in anything, am I?” Hojo countered. It took a practiced eye to see the tiniest frown of distaste on Sephiroth’s face. “But it’s still my cell; it’s within my rights to observe what happens.”

               Sephiroth gave his consent by staunchly ignoring the scientist as Tseng sat at the table with his back to the entrance.

               “Come sit,” Tseng said mildly, gesturing toward the free chair, Reno behind his right shoulder, Rude at his left.

               The blond looked between the three, glanced (with uncanny accuracy) at Sephiroth, and then took his seat. Tseng pulled his PHS from his jacket pocket, set it to record, and placed it on the table.

               “What is your name?” Tseng asked, folding his hands on the table.

               “Cloud Strife,” the blond answered. Sephiroth blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected the captive to answer so readily, if at all.

               At Sephiroth’s side, Hojo’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing in attention. Sephiroth saw out of the corner of his eye how the scientist inspected the boy, his grip on his pen white-knuckled, before he began furiously writing on his clipboard. His handwriting, a nasty scrawl, was illegible without close examination, leaving Sephiroth wondering what notes he could possibly be taking with nothing but a name.

               “Where are you from?”

               “Nibelheim.”

               “Father?”

               “I don’t have one.”

               Tseng didn’t so much as blink. Sephiroth and Zack exchanged an incredulous look. Hojo continued to write furiously.

               “Mother?”

               “Jenova.”

               If possible, Hojo’s writing grew quicker.

               “Are you responsible for the elimination of the Shinra troopers and SOLDIERs who had been sent to Nibelheim?”

               “Yes.”

               “Are you responsible for the destruction of Nibelheim?”

               “Yes.”

               “Are you responsible for the damage done to Kalm town and its residents?”

               “Obviously.”

               “What were your motives for these actions?”

               Again, Cloud looked up, pinning Sephiroth with his stare.

               “Personal.”

               “Elaborate further.”

               “No.”

               “Be aware that any information you have shared with Sephiroth will be readily available to us.”

               Cloud looked back to Tseng, head tilted, brows furrowed.

               “Who’s Sephiroth?”

               Tseng blinked—it was the only sign of his disbelief. Behind him, Reno and Rude glanced at each other.

               “The General. The Demon of Wutai.”

               “Who’s that?”

               Tseng’s pause was longer this time. There was no one in the world who hadn’t heard of Sephiroth.

               “You’ve spoken with him multiple times already. Tall, silver hair, dressed in black. Eyes like yours.”

               “Oh,” Cloud said, eyes finally sparking with recognition. “The lost one.”

               “Why do you call him that?”

               “He’s lost his way,” Cloud said slowly, as if Tseng was an idiot for needing to ask.

               “And what way is that?” Tseng asked, pointedly ignoring the blond’s tone.

               “Irrelevant to you. He’ll find his way eventually,” Cloud said, looking up into Sephiroth’s eyes again. “He can take the time he needs to find his path.”

               “What path?” Tseng insisted.

               A flicker of irritation passed over Cloud’s face, but he held his silence.

               “What path?”

               He was met again with stony silence.

               “You have been reported to keep pace with Sephiroth and your eyes appear to have a mako glow. How did you come upon these enhancements?” Tseng yielded, finally changing tact.

               “Mother.”

               “Your enhancements are from your mother?”

               “Yes.”

               “Elaborate.”

               “Her legacy. Her wisdom. Her guidance.”

               “Did you inherit these enhancements?”

               “Yes,” Cloud said. “And no.”

               “Elaborate.”

               The blond didn’t hide the way he rolled his eyes. He was growing tired of this conversation.

               “I was born this way. The mako was just an addition.”

               “Did you come upon this mako in the reactor?”

               Cloud looked at him, again, as if he were stupid.

               “Raw mako is deadly.”

               “You had access to processed mako?”

               “A fountain.”

               Tseng blinked again. It wasn’t common knowledge that natural fountains purified mako.

               “How did you know to drink from it?”

               “ _Mother_ ,” Cloud said slowly—if his opinion on Tseng’s intelligence wasn’t clear before, it certainly was now.

               “How did Jenova know it was safe?”

               The blond scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

               “There’s nothing Mother doesn’t know.”

               “Was she the one who led you to attack Nibelheim?” Tseng asked, backtracking, hoping different phrasing might be enough to trick the blond into revealing his motives.

               It failed.

               Cloud crossed his arms and stared at Tseng impassively.                  

               “How do you remain in contact with her? There was no PHS found on your person.”

               All he did was raise an eyebrow.

               “Refusing to cooperate will only extend your stay here.”

               “As if you would ever let me out.”

               Tseng stood, Reno and Rude closing ranks behind him.

               “Consider what we discussed here today. I suggest you be more willing to speak next time.”

               “Can’t wait,” Cloud drawled.

               If nothing else, Zack was impressed by the blond’s sheer nerve.

               His green eyes returned, locking again on Sephiroth’s matching ones.

               Tseng gathered his PHS and stopped the recording. He, Reno, and Rude filed out of the room, the door locking behind them.

               “We will need a report on your conversations with him,” Tseng said, coming to stand in front of Sephiroth.

               Zack finally noticed the precision of Cloud’s stare. Tseng’s position between the two did nothing to disturb the look he gave.

               “You’ll receive it by the end of the day,” Sephiroth answered.

               Tseng nodded and left, his fellow Turks in his footsteps. Reno gave the blond one last, confused look before leaving entirely.

               “Fascinating,” Hojo breathed, finishing the last of his notes as he walked away. Sephiroth watched his back, unsettled.

               “That wall is one-way, isn’t it?” Zack asked, sounding as disturbed as Sephiroth felt.

               “Yes,” Sephiroth said from experience.

               “Is it sound-proof?”

               “No more than any completely closed room is,” Sephiroth answered, looking back at Zack. Following his friend’s stare, he looked back at Cloud, whose eyes were still locked with his.

               “How is he doing that?” Zack said beneath his breath.

               Sephiroth shook his head, turned, and gestured for Zack to follow.

               He didn’t see the way Cloud’s eyes tracked him.

               Nor did he notice the predatory grin that spread across his face.

               Zack shook himself and followed his general.

               Neither spoke until they were in an elevator, heading for the floor with their respective offices (not that Zack routinely used his).

               “Hojo knows something,” Sephiroth said, watching the numbers rise.

               “What makes you say that?” Zack asked, watching his friend.

               “He took notes frantically, from the moment Strife gave his name. It was no idle interest,” Sephiroth explained.

               “So what? It’s not like he can do anything,” Zack countered.

               Sephiroth shook his head.

               “Nothing he can do yet. Given time, he will find a way,” Sephiroth said, exiting the elevator as the door pinged open. Zack began to follow, only for the general to turn, holding the elevator door open.

               “I don’t trust him,” Sephiroth said. “For now, I want either you or I with eyes on him at all times. I will clear your schedule for the rest of the day; I have to file that report for the Turks. I will be down to replace you at 2100.”

               “Yes sir,” Zack said, flicking his superior a lazy salute.

               Despite his nonchalance, both knew Zack was as serious about the matter as Sephiroth was.

               Nodding once, the general let the door go and turned, making his way to his office.

               Zack sighed and pressed the button to return to the Science Department’s floor.

               He didn’t look forward to spending time with the disturbing blond. The interview had been enough to unsettle him. Who knew how badly things would go with them, alone, for hours? This was the last way he thought the day would go when he woke up this morning.

               He swore quietly.

               There was nothing to be done. He had a duty, after all.


	7. Chapter 7

               Zack had to brush aside more than one scientist as he made his way back to the cell—he didn’t exactly have Sephiroth’s intimidation factor to keep them from his path. He half expected Hojo to be watching the blond when he got there, but the hall was deserted. He crossed to stand in front of the cell, folded his arms, and leaned against the wall.

               Cloud was sitting on the table, staring at the glass wall, his feet kicking lightly. His eyes tracked Zack with that uncanny accuracy. The two fell into a staring contest, neither willing to break eye contact first. Eventually, the blond smiled—for once it wasn’t wild or threatening, simply pleased.

               “You’re the one who was with Sephiroth,” Cloud stated, leaning forward.

               Zack pursed his lips but didn’t answer. Cloud’s smile changed, growing a sharp edge.

               “You hold him back.”

               Zack had to fight back a flinch. He knew the blond was talking about his insistence on Sephiroth’s humanity, but the way he phrased it hit a sore spot. He knew he couldn’t keep up with Sephiroth, that the general slowed down on missions for his sake. He was perfectly aware that he had held Sephiroth back in Wutai despite his best efforts. Sephiroth never addressed the issue, and Zack felt no need to bring it up—he knew it as a stupid thing to beat himself up over. That didn’t stop him from doing anyway.

               Cloud hopped from the table and went to the seat he had been in during the interview.

               “If you earned his attention, you’ve earned mine,” he said. “You might as well sit and talk. It’ll be boring for both of us if you don’t.”

               “That’s against protocol,” Zack countered, not moving an inch.

               Cloud propped his chin up in his hand and smiled again.

               “Are you sure? Because I think you’re just afraid that I’ll try to escape and you won’t be able to stop me.”

               Zack frowned. Damn, but the blond’s intuition was good.

               “Come on,” he crooned. “I behaved last time, didn’t I?”

               “Last time, Sephiroth was there,” Zack answered.

               “But Sephiroth sent you to guard me, didn’t he?” he said. “He trusts you to keep me here. Shouldn’t you trust him?”

               Zack hesitated, watching Cloud carefully.

               Cursing his own trusting nature and faith in humanity, Zack pushed away from the wall.

               “Stand at the far wall,” he ordered.

               Cloud smiled, raised his hands innocently, and followed without protest.

               Zack entered the cell, quickly glancing at the glass wall. It appeared to be a mirror, exactly how it should be. There was no reasonable explanation for Cloud’s ability to seemingly see through it.

               Zack unsheathed the Buster Sword and sat with the blade across his lap, one hand on the hilt. He waved his hand, beckoning the prisoner closer. Cloud complied, walking slowly, nonthreateningly to his seat.

               “The sword’s unnecessary,” he said, sitting down. “I told you, if he’s interested in you, I am too. I won’t hurt you until I see what he sees. I’ll decide what to do with you after.”

               He spoke with such easy superiority, such confidence, that Zack began to wonder all over again if sitting with him was wise.

               “Why are you so interested in Sephiroth?” Zack asked, ignoring the blond’s insistence, keeping his hand firmly on his hilt.

               Cloud hummed, watching him carefully, thoughtfully, debating if he was worthy of an honest answer.

               “He’s connected to Mother,” he answered. “Not her son, but there is a tie between them.”

               “And Mother’s Jenova?” Zack asked again.

               “That’s right,” Cloud confirmed, looking more pleased with Zack than he had Tseng.

               “Is she the woman that was in the reactor? The one you lived with?”

               “Yes.”

               Zack hesitated, but continued. “When we found her, her head was missing. Was that you?”

               “Who else would it be?” he countered.

               “Didn’t that hurt her?” Zack asked, brows bunching in confusion.

               Cloud blinked, then laughed. It was an eerie thing; bright and tinkling like bells, as boyish as he appeared, so unexpectedly sweet. This, from the one responsible for so much bloodshed?

               “Of course not,” Cloud said with a smile, a hint of laughter still in his voice. “She wouldn’t have suggested it if it did.”

               “It was her idea?” said Zack, the confusion on his face growing.

               “Obviously,” Cloud answered, the smile still in place, though the laughter had tapered off.

               “How’d she tell you that from inside the tank?”

               Cloud shook his head, lips twitching further up.

               “Mother doesn’t need to speak the way we do,” Cloud said. “She’s special. Better.”

               “So she’s,” Zack paused, searching for an appropriate word, “a telepath?”

               “What’s that?” Cloud asked, blinking up at him in confusion. It took Zack off guard every time—he looked so innocent, so pure that if he hadn’t seen those feral, threatening looks, hadn’t seen him gore-coated, he wouldn’t have believed the blond could be responsible for the crimes he committed.

               “Someone who can speak in your head,” Zack explained. “Their voice just pops into your mind.”

               “Oh,” Cloud said, somehow brighter, as if learning a new word was an unexpected treat. “Then yes.”

               Zack propped his chin in his spare hand, looking the blond over. Cloud just looked back at him with those wide eyes.

               “Where’d you put her head?” Zack finally asked.

               “That’s a secret,” Cloud said, voice a sing-song.

               “Can you still hear her?”

               “I can always hear her.”

               He paused again. Inspected the boy closer still.

               “What were you planning to do after Kalm?”

               Cloud beamed.

               “Another secret.”

               Zack pursed his lips.

               Cloud, nearly mimicking Zack, propped his chin in both of his hands.

               “Is it my turn yet?” Cloud asked.

               “To ask questions?” Zack said.

               The blond nodded.

               Knowing he would regret it, Zack sighed, and said, “Shoot.”

               “Tell me about Sephiroth.”

               He should have seen that coming.

               “Ask Sephiroth that,” he said. “It’s not my place to say.”

               Cloud pursed his lips, nearly pouted, before saying, “Fine. Tell me about yourself.”

               Zack rubbed the back of his neck. Why did it feel like he was making some deal with a monster? Something in his gut told him this would all come back to haunt him, that the smart thing to do was to turn around and leave without another word. That the _truly_ smart thing to do would have been never coming into the room in the first place. But he was committed now—he had been getting answers out of the blond, and if he refused to offer anything in return, he would probably never get another answer from him. He sighed.

               “What do you want to know?” Zack finally asked, resigned.

               “Start at the beginning,” Cloud suggested, that bright, curious look back on his face again.

               “I’m from a small, reactor town like Nibelheim in the south. I wanted to be a SOLDIER, so I joined up once I was old enough and worked until I got where I am today.”

               “And where are you today?”

               “SOLDIER First Class and Lt. General in Shinra’s army.”

               Cloud didn’t say anything else, just stared at him blankly. Zack grew more and more unsure of what to do next as the seconds passed, until he finally understood the problem.

               “I’m the top rank in the SOLDIER program, the unit with enhancements, and Sephiroth’s second in command,” Zack explained.

               Cloud was clearly smart. He was methodical and thorough with his crimes, despite the messy nature of his kills. For someone who had only spoken to an alien in his head for gods knew how many years, he navigated conversation well, and was improving by the minute—especially considering Sephrioth’s initial statement about his lack of coherency. His questions and answers followed logical progressions. He didn’t mince words, getting to the point quickly and clearly getting his point across. His interest and dismissal of different people was haughty, talking down to those he didn’t see as important, treating his answers like gifts that he deigned to give to the unworthy. He understood the world around him with clarity that Zack hadn’t been expecting. He learned so quickly that it through Zack for a loop every time he failed to recognize simple, commonly used phrases.

               “You’re his most trusted, the closest to him,” Cloud said with a hum. “Why?”

               Zack shrugged.

               “I earned it,” he answered simply.

               “How?”

               Zack shifted, thinking.

               “I proved myself. I had to show him that I was the best there was, besides him,” he explained.

               “How?” Cloud repeated.

               Zack gave a frustrated sigh.

               “He saw me fight other SOLDIERs, and when he saw I was starting to win all the time, he fought me himself. He still won, but he trusted me as a fighter after that. It took some time, but the battles I fought in the war went well, so he promoted me, because he saw I had a head for strategy.”

               “And as his friend?”

               “I was persistent.”

               “That’s it?” Cloud asked. He almost sounded affronted at the thought.

               “Mostly,” Zack admitted, frowning at the blond’s tone. “He got to know me eventually and found out that I was someone he could get along with. That’s how you make friends.”

               Cloud looked deep in thought, pondering over the idea. Zack wasn’t sure if he eventually understood the concept or just put it aside to be dealt with later. He changed tact.

               “What war?” he asked.

               Zack gaped.

               “How long were you in that reactor?” he said, tone colored with disbelief.

               To his credit, Cloud didn’t get offended that Zack clearly thought he was missing out on something obvious. Even the boy was aware that he knew little of the outside world, but he was eager to learn. He hummed in thought.

               “Ten years?” Cloud said, sounding unsure. “Definitely no more than fifteen.”

               “ _Fifteen?_ ” Zack blurted, incredulous. “You barely look sixteen. Did you _always_ live in the reactor?”

               “No,” Cloud said, sounding confused with Zack’s reaction. “I don’t really remember, but I’m at least twenty.” He paused, sounded like he was listening to something, though the only sound in the room was the humming of the lights. “No, 23.”

               Zack stared.

               Cloud stared back.

               When Zack took too long, he repeated, “What war?”

               He shook himself out of his shock (how could he be _23_?) to finally answer.

               “Shinra fought Wutai for control over their land—the war lasted six years,” Zack explained. “Even Nibelheim must have heard about it.”

               Cloud ignored the last surprised comment.

               “What’s Shinra?” he asked instead.

               “The company that Sephiroth and I work for. You’re in their building right now,” Zack answered. He saw Cloud open his mouth to speak, and beat him to the punch. “Wutai’s a country. They lost the war.”

               “What do you do now that the war’s over?”

               “Fight you, apparently.”

               It was enough to earn another grin.

               “That’s all,” Cloud announced, leaning back in his chair.

               “No more questions?” Zack asked.

               “For now,” he said. “You can stay if you want.”

               Zack stared again. He gave him permission to stay, as if he needed it, as if this was Cloud’s home and he was an invited guest. He shook his head. The blond would never really make sense.

               “Why didn’t you answer Tseng?” Zack asked, but Cloud wasn’t listening any longer. He sat with his eyes directly forward, meeting Zack’s but not seeing him. When the moment stretched to a breaking point, he waved his hand in the blond’s face. When that earned no reaction, he leaned to the side to see if his eyes would follow. They stayed straight ahead.

               Zack sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching Cloud closely. At his best guess, he figured he must be speaking with Jenova—there was certainly nothing else to pull his attention in the cell.

               Zack rubbed the back of his neck again.

               He would likely get shit from Sephiroth about it, but he stayed in his seat. They all knew that if he wanted to, Cloud could outrun Zack. He’d probably be able to knock him out and steal the keycard needed to open the door before he could so much as blink. There was no harm in it, and besides, his feet would go numb if he stood there until 2100.

               Zack hadn’t learned much in their conversation, and possibly gave away more than he should have. It did, however, make one thing clear.

               Cloud wasn’t here because of the cell or Zack guarding it.

               He was there because he wanted to be.


	8. Chapter 8

Zack had long since mastered the art of guard duty. He’d started with it as a cadet, the same as every other member of Shinra’s military. He knew how to be watchful while letting his mind wander. How to keep his senses aware without necessarily giving it his full attention. How to not fall asleep from sheer boredom. He was perfectly capable of keeping an eye on his charge without actively watching him. He knew how, yet this time, he found it impossible to do. He should have gotten up and left to return to the hallway, but at this point he wouldn’t send the wrong message by retreating. But it was impossible to relax in Cloud’s presence.

The blond _did_ very little. He sat still, staring into the distance for what Zack counted as nearly three hours. Then, sudden enough to startle Zack, he began drumming his fingers on the table, as if his patience had abruptly run out. He glanced around the room, at one point turning to sit backwards in his chair to examine the space behind him. He made small, curious hums and occasional disbelieving scoffs, but he didn’t speak again. He also never moved from the chair, staying almost entirely in place, if you didn’t count the fidgeting.

 He reminded Zack of some of the young children he had seen last time he visited Gongaga, all impatience and needing constant stimulation, completely incapable of just sitting still for more than five minutes before boredom drove them to find _something_ to do. Zack guessed that, despite his apparently decade-long isolation from society, the blond has little experience in waiting. He supposed it made sense in a way, there was no person or rules preventing him from doing what he wanted when he wanted it, aside from Jenova, and she didn’t seem to be much interested in taming her son.

There was a point where they fell into a staring contest of sorts, Zack sitting exactly where he had been, his hand still on his blade, while Cloud slouched low in his chair, foot tapping impatiently, fingers drumming on his crossed arms. He seemed to be inspecting Zack as much as Zack was inspecting him. Zack had no idea what the blond could possibly learn from his appearance, especially considering that he didn’t know enough about society to even recognize the uniform he wore. Yet he kept Cloud’s attention for longer than Zack thought he was able to focus for. From time to time, the boy’s head would tilt as if he was listening. Little expressions flickered over his face, small nods or shakes of his head, the occasional shrug. It was like Zack was watching a conversation with the actual words muted.

Even if he had been comfortable enough in Cloud’s presence to relax and let his mind wander, there was certainly plenty in the blond’s actions to keep his attention.

When the knock came, Cloud was sitting backwards in his chair again, staring at the bolted down furniture of the room as if he had never seen its like before. Instead of turning, the blond leaned back, hands on the back of his chair for support, looking upside down at the glass wall. It struck Zack again as a childish gesture, the stark contrast between his demeanor and his crimes settling a ball of unease deep in his gut.

“Against the far wall,” Zack ordered, standing up, blade still in hand.

As before, Cloud lifted his hands in a show of innocence and moved slowly to comply.

Without turning his back, Zack left the room, turning around to see Sephiroth with an unwelcome, but expected, stormy look on his face. He sheathed the Buster Sword with a sigh.

“I know you aren’t a stupid man, Zack,” Sephiroth said, tone heavily implying that he was acting to the contrary.

“He wanted to talk,” Zack explained lamely, rubbing at the back of his neck, fully aware of how poor his excuse was.

When Sephiroth did no more than stare at him, he continued.

“If push came to shove, I couldn’t do any more to stop him in the hall than I could in the room. It seemed like a better idea to try and get what information out of him that I could.”

“The entire point of the cell is that it will prevent him from getting into the hallway in the first place,” Sephiroth said. “An action that would become significantly easier if he was able to get your keycard.”

Zack glanced nervously back at Cloud, who was watching their conversation in interest, sitting on top of the table again, swinging his legs. He took Sephiroth’s elbow and pulled him toward the far end of the hallway.

“We aren’t even sure if that cell will hold him,” Zack said in a whisper, praying it would be low enough, far enough away that Cloud couldn’t eavesdrop.

“They held me,” Sephiroth admitted, bitterness clear in his tone.

“When you were a _kid_ , Seph. And besides, what if he really is stronger than you?”

“He can’t be any older than I was last time I was held.”

“According to him, he’s 23, and I don’t see a reason for him to lie about it.”

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed. He glanced at the cell at the far end of the hall.

“That’s impossible,” Sephiroth said.

“We don’t know how much mako was pumped into him how young and what being related to some monster-alien-thing would do to someone. Maybe he just stopped aging,” Zack answered.

Sephiroth looked incredulous, but didn’t outright refute the idea. They had too little information to go on.

“I think you should talk to him,” Zack continued. “He’ll tell you more than he told me and we’re flying too close to blind for either of us to be comfortable right now.”

Sephiroth frowned, but relented.

“If he wants to talk with you, do it from the hall from now on,” Sephiroth ordered. “I’ll guard him until 0400. I’ll cast a Sleep spell and we can reconvene in private to compare notes.”

Zack straightened without thinking at Sephiroth’s tone and nodded. In private would mean Sephiroth’s apartment—neither of them were deluded enough to think that their offices weren’t bugged. Sephiroth nodded briefly in recognition before going to stand outside of Cloud’s cell. Zack watched him leave and sighed before making his way from the Science Department. He didn’t envy Sephiroth his guard duty.

Cloud’s eyes tracked Sephiroth as soon as he was within eyeshot of the cell again. His ability to apparently see anyone outside of the cell had been unnerving to Zack, but it was doubly so to Sephiroth. He had been in that cell, for far longer than he cared to remember. He knew that it was impossible to see through the glass. He had been able to hear muffled conversation through the door, but not even well enough to make out words, and that was with his enhanced hearing. Just how acute were his senses?

Sephiroth slipped unthinkingly into parade rest as he stopped in front of the cell. He watched as a smile bloomed on Cloud’s face, so unlike the others he had seen. He knew the blond to be a wild thing—predatory and feral, certainly. His thoughts twisted in strange patterns, following trails of information only he seemed to have, but he was as capable of being thoughtful as he was lost when presented with new data. What he was not prepared for how soft his smile could be, how sweet and fond. It made Sephiroth’s heart stutter. No one had ever looked at him that way.

In any other situation, with any other person, he would have been hopelessly charmed.

“Lost one,” Cloud said in a soft tone that matched his smile. “Sephiroth.”

Despite his better instincts, despite the fact that he would lie about it until he was out of breath, some part of him was charmed regardless.

“My lieutenant seems to believe you have useful information,” Sephiroth answered, his tone and expression flat regardless, a skill he had mastered after years of board meetings.

Cloud’s head tilted to the side thoughtfully.

“He’s more interesting than Tseng,” Cloud admitted, surprising Sephiroth. Remembering their first conversation, little more than incoherent babbling from the blond’s end, left him surprised that he had even been able to note Tseng’s name without a formal introduction. He chided himself silently—he knew better than to underestimate enemies, even (especially) when they had disarming smiles. He reminded himself that Cloud favored him for traits that he loathed in himself, that the man he aimed to be was completely at odds with what the blond wanted from him. It settled whatever strange feeling had been stirred up within him.

“Is that why you refused to speak to Tseng?” Sephiroth asked. “Because you find him boring?”

“All humans are boring,” Cloud explained with a sigh, as if disappointed that Sephiroth had missed a point. “Your lieutenant is only less boring because he’s a puzzle.”

“How so?” Sephiroth asked. This wasn’t the train of conversation that he needed to be focusing on. This was not the hard data that he needed. But any insight into how Cloud thought would be helpful, and besides, they had hours to kill.

“Because he matters to you,” Cloud said, leaning back on his hands. “Though I still don’t see why.”

“And he’ll continue to warrant your attention until you see what I do,” Sephiroth finished for him.

He was rewarded with another smile.

It decidedly did _not_ affect him (and there was nothing that could get him to say otherwise).

He hopped down from the table and went to sit in his seat, folding his hands on the table, beaming brightly.

“Come and sit. Talk with me.”

Sephiroth gave him nothing but a flat look. It would be rather hypocritical of him to enter the cell after ordering Zack not to.

Cloud’s face twisted into what could only be called a pout.

“Please?” he asked. “I behaved for everyone else. I’ll behave for you.”

Sephiroth found himself considering it, until his brain caught up with his runaway thoughts and quashed them outright.

He continued to do nothing but stare.

Cloud extended his arms as far as he could, palms pressed flat to the table, his chin nearly hitting its surface, as if he was trying to reach for Sephiroth from his chair. The pleading look stayed glued to his face.

“You know I won’t hurt you,” he said, voice devolving into what was nearly a whine. “I told you that from the beginning.”

“It’s not myself I’m concerned for,” Sephiroth admitted.

Cloud groaned, leaning back into his chair and sliding down it to a deep slouch.

“If I wanted out, I would have gotten out by now,” he said, the pout returning.

“People’s minds change,” Sephiroth countered.

“I _promise_ I won’t try to run out on you,” Cloud answered, sitting up again, hands curled around the edge of his chair, leaning forward, eyes wide and hopeful.

“And your word is clearly trustworthy,” Sephiroth drawled, all sarcasm.

He almost felt guilty when his words seemed to hurt the blond.

“I’m not a _liar_ ,” he said, leaning back in his chair again. “Humans are liars. It’s a disgusting trait of theirs.”

“If you’re so superior, why would I believe you would honor a pledge given to someone lesser?” Sephiroth countered, one hand tightening around the other behind his back. He disliked the way this conversation was going. Cloud’s obvious disdain for humanity unsettled and infuriated him.

Cloud huffed.

“Why would I need to deceive a human? I don’t need their help or approval—if I want something from them, all I have to do is take it,” Cloud answered flippantly. “Besides, you aren’t lesser.”

Sephiroth was only further unsettled by the truth in his argument. There probably _was_ little Cloud couldn’t just take from those around him.

In spite of himself, he hesitated. There probably _was_ very little harm in him joining Cloud in the cell. He had a point—if he wanted to be out, he had plenty of opportunity to escape. But he stayed put for the Turks and for Zack, and if they’re conversations so far were anything to go on, the last thing the blond would do is run away from _him_. But if he did, it felt as if he was admitting that Zack was inferior, that he would have been incapable of stopping their prisoner but that Sephiroth would succeed. The idea was distasteful.

The silence stretched between them, Cloud still looking at him hopefully.

It must have been at least fifteen minutes before he sighed.

Zack was the first one who admitted Cloud could have escaped on him, after all. It didn’t make him inferior. It just meant that Cloud’s differing opinions on the two of them impacted his likely behavior. And if he wouldn’t run out on Zack, he wouldn’t run out on Sephiroth.

Without asking for Cloud to move to the back of the cell as a precaution, Sephiroth entered, shutting the door behind him. Without so much as a flicker in expression, he crossed the room to sit in the spare chair. The blond looked at him the way a child looked at presents on Yule morning.

No one had ever been so simply, honestly excited to see him. He wracked his brain to remember a time Zack had looked on him the same way. He had been happy to see him often, but never to this extent. He did his best to write it off as a difference in behavior. Zack was open with his expressions, but Cloud was utterly unguarded. He’d never had need to hide or tame his feelings in front of others. He suspected he wouldn’t even know where to begin if he were to attempt it.

Sephiroth adamantly set that feeling aside, folding his hands on the table, looking as collected and professional as he had ever been. Cloud’s hands gripped the edge of his seat again as he leaned forward, the look of sheer joy still on his face.

“You have questions,” Cloud began. “As long as Mother says it’s okay, I’d be happy to answer them.”

“Why would she not agree?” Sephiroth asked, earning him a sigh.

“We _want_ to trust you,” Cloud insisted, as if it were crucial that Sephiroth understood and believed that point. “But you don’t want to help yet. If you tried to stop me, we’d have to fight, and I don’t like that idea.”

It was a reasonable point. He’d hoped Cloud was a little too severed from reality to understand that giving details about his plans to his enemy was a bad idea. But that lack of coherency that he’d first displayed seemed to be a thing of the past. If nothing else, the blond learned quickly.

“Why attack Kalm?” he said, changing tact.

“It was the closest village to you.”

“Why does that matter?”

“I wanted you to come,” Cloud said, that affectionate smile back on his face.

Sephiroth remained baffled by the boy’s immediate attachment to him. It was like he imprinted on him, latching onto him at first sight. He knew it was based in the idea that he was superhuman, just as Cloud considered himself to be. But this fondness, his joy was an unexpected development. This was not the partners-in-crime relationship Sephiroth thought he was aiming for. He wasn’t quite sure _what_ it was, only that there was significantly more feeling to it than he had anticipated.

“Why?” Sephiroth asked. Now was not the time to reflect on the boy’s strange behavior. He could do that later, when he was unhurried and had the time to tease apart their encounters.

“I wanted to be near you,” he answered.

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed, the slightest wrinkle forming between his brows.

“At the expense of your freedom and ability to complete your plans?” he asked. Tactically, it made no sense.

All he got in response was that fond smile.

“How did you know where I was?” Sephiroth asked, refusing to feel frustrated at Cloud’s lack of reply.

“Mother can tell,” he said, answering readily this time.

“How?” Sephiroth pressed.

“I told you,” Cloud said. “You’re tied to Mother. She’ll always know where you are.”

It sent a chill down Sephiroth’s spine. The idea of Shinra always knowing his whereabouts was bad enough. It made him feel like he was their property, their pet, still their science experiment. But they had no tracker on him, and if he fled they wouldn’t know where to find him. He spent ages in Wutai severed from Shinra entirely, when their knowledge of his location was limited to “somewhere within Wutai’s borders.”

That was bad enough, but at least Shinra was a devil he knew. This Jenova was a mystery, a strange threat that apparently couldn’t be dismissed as easily as he had hoped.

“What did you plan to do after Kalm?” Sephiroth asked, trying not to think about his disturbing tie to Jenova.

The smile slipped off Cloud’s face, forming into a small pout.

“I’m not allowed to tell you,” he answered, sounding genuinely sorry about it.

“Because Jenova doesn’t want you to?” Sephiroth asked.

Cloud simply nodded.

“Do you always live your life by what she says?” he asked. Cloud’s subordination to Jenova paralleled his own to Shinra. It reminded him too heavily of his time in the labs, never questioning why he lived by the word and whim of the scientists because he simply hadn’t known life could be different.

The pout twisted into a frown, his brow bunching.

“A good son listens to his mother,” Cloud said, but there was the slightest hesitance to his tone. “Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

“Listening is one thing, total obedience is another,” Sephiroth answered, watching Cloud’s reactions carefully. “If you don’t think for yourself or make your own decisions, you become little more than a puppet.”

Cloud hesitated longer this time, leaning away from Sephiroth for the first time. That childish near-innocence fell from his face as he narrowed his eyes, inspecting Sephiroth as if he was seeing him for the first time.

“And if I just tend to agree with her?” It was phrased as a challenge, but came out a wondering question. As if he sincerely believed Sephiroth would have the answer.

He shrugged lightly, removing his hands from the tabletop.

“Then it’s a different matter,” Sephiroth admitted. “But if you agree with every single thought and suggestion she has, then it’s likely more than a tendency.”

They lapsed into an unexpected silence. Cloud’s gaze flitted around the room, always returning to Sephiroth’s eyes with a look of concern and curiosity. His head tilted from time to time, turned just slightly to the side as if listening to something Sephiroth couldn’t hear. The General did little more than watch him, waiting for him to come to some sort of conclusion, or give the matter up as lost and change topics.

He felt a flicker of hope in spite of himself. Perhaps they weren’t dealing with the mindless monstrosity they had assumed he was. He had been isolated from a young age, presented with only one view for so long that it would be impossible for him not to believe it. By this point, Sephiroth wasn’t surprised that it would seem like gospel to the blond. He knew that position too well to not empathize. Nibelheim and Kalm were certainly not excusable offenses, but it was becoming clear that Cloud had been essentially following orders. Nibelheim and Kalm weren’t excusable, but then, neither was Wutai. He’d rained as much destruction over the nation, likely more, than Cloud had the towns. All because of orders from parties they didn’t think to question. Shinra had raised Sephiroth as surely as Jenova had Cloud. If it hadn’t been for Zack, Sephiroth would probably be little better than Cloud, touting Shinra’s policies and philosophies, putting stock in them without question.

He had always disliked the labs, even when he didn’t know any better. But it was an instinctual dislike, the animal repulsion of cramped spaces and pain. It had taken Zack teaching him to see for himself to see just how bad his childhood had been, how bad Wutai really was. But Cloud had no one. It seemed like Jenova treated Cloud better than Shinra had treated Sephiroth; it was based on little more than scraps and intuition, but Jenova seemed to coddle and dote on her “son.” He’d had no one to teach him to think for himself, and, though he seemed to be responsible for his own survival, Cloud’s childhood lacked the discomfort and pain of Sephiroth’s. He’d never had reason to question Jenova.

Sephiroth didn’t expect a miracle. Though Cloud was certainly taking his time, giving his words more consideration than he had expected, he would likely find some way to twist the truth and convince himself again that Jenova had been right all along. But that he hesitated at all was telling. He didn’t dare to acknowledge it, but something in his stomach fluttered with hope. Perhaps Cloud wasn’t a lost cause. Perhaps he could be saved from himself.

Sephiroth knew himself; he was no savior. He was a weapon and destroyer more often than not. But this, this he might be able to do. He knew what it felt like to be where Cloud was, and he knew what it was like on the other side, having overcome the hurdle of his rearing. If he could do it, Cloud could as well. Between him and Zack, there was a chance they might be able to reach the blond and stop his path of destruction before it truly developed.

It wasn’t much, but that sliver of hope was so, so much better than none at all.


	9. Chapter 9

The hours passed in strangely companionable silence. Sephiroth kept a watchful eye on his charge, never once moving from his chair. Cloud appeared to be listening to Jenova for the majority of the time, but in those small intermissions, his actions reinforced the childlike impression he gave Sephiroth. Though he had spent hours in the cell already, he seemed to still be exploring it with wonder. He seemed especially fascinated by the bed and pillow. Sephiroth knew from experience that the pillow was lumpy and the bed little better than the floor, but Cloud touched them with awe. He spent a fifteen minute interlude doing nothing but pressing on the pillow he had placed in his lap, watching it give and bounce back over and over. At one point he stood on the bed, bouncing on the balls of his feet, fascinated by the effect of the springs. Sephiroth couldn’t be sure, but, given his ongoing fascination, he assumed the blond hadn’t taken such liberties under Zack’s guard. Whether it was to avoid any negative reaction Zack’s fear might induce or that he simply trusted Sephiroth enough to let his guard down, he couldn’t tell.

When the allotted time of his guard duty passed, Sephiroth called Cloud’s name, interrupting his inspection of the stitches keeping the pillow closed. Cloud immediately looked up with wide eyes. He beckoned him over with his hand.

Cloud popped to his feet, gently placing the pillow on the bed as if he wasn’t sure if it would break, and quickly took his place at the table again.

“Give me your arm,” Sephiroth said, holding out one hand.

Cloud hesitated, but there wasn’t suspicion, only curiosity in his voice when he asked, “Why?”

Slow enough to not alarm Cloud, Sephiroth pulled a capped syringe from a pocket of his coat.

“This is a sedative,” he explained slowly. “It will make you sleep for several hours.”

Cloud frowned, looking between Sephiroth and the needle.

“I’m not tired.”

“I’m aware,” Sephiroth answered. His fascinated exploration of the room betrayed no hint of tiredness. “I need to speak with Zack in private; no one will be available to guard you.”

Cloud’s frown turned into a pout.

“Can’t you just go to the end of the hall? I won’t be able to hear you and you can still see the door, so you’d know if I tried to leave.”

Sephiroth was caught between a snort and smile.

“You aren’t the one we need privacy from,” Sephiroth explained.

“Oh.”

“Your arm, please, Cloud.”

Cloud had one hand wrapped around a forearm he held protectively to his chest. He kept looking between the needle, Sephiroth, and his outstretched hand. For the first time, he looked nervous.

Sephiroth bit back a sigh.

“I will keep my meeting with Zack as brief as I am able,” he promised. “I’ll return and wake you when we are done. It won’t take long.”

Cloud chewed on his bottom lip.

“Will it hurt?”

Sephiroth only barely managed to stop himself from laughing. This, from someone so accustomed to gore? From someone who had taken blow after blow after blow and continued in spite of them during their fight?

“Just a pinch,” Sephiroth said, his tone a hair warmer than usual in his amusement. He wasn’t sure if it was his words or his tone that placated Cloud, but he held his arm out regardless.

Cloud had watched the process of him administering the sedative with morbid fascination. When his arm was released, he began pinching at the skin around the wound, pressing the flesh to make more blood well to the surface. Sephiroth watched curiously. Was he just that fond of blood? Was it that he was unaccustomed to wounds on his own person?

Sephiroth could see the exact moment the sedative began to take effect, Cloud’s hand faltering, eyes going distant as his head swam. Sephiroth only barely made it in time to catch Cloud before he fell face first to the floor. Carefully, Sephiroth lifted the blond, placing him on the bed before withdrawing.

When Sephiroth returned to his apartment, he found Zack asleep on his couch. He sighed; Zack could have at least slept in his own bed, it wouldn’t waste _that_ much time to fetch him before they talked, but there was nothing for it now. He went to his friend and gently shook his shoulder.

“Zack,” he said, voice low.

Zack smacked his hand away and sat bolt upright, only narrowly avoiding slamming his head into Sephiroth’s. His eyes were wild for a moment until he realized where he was and who had woken him. He groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Okay, right, time to talk about our blond problem,” Zack said around a yawn. Sephiroth pulled away, heading for the kitchen.

“Coffee? I think we’ll both need it,” Sephiroth called.

“ _Please_ ,” Zack answered.

By the time he returned with their mugs (his drowned in what Zack always called an unholy amount of cream, Zack’s black but with so much sugar Sephiroth told him he’d get cavities), Zack was properly awake and pulling back on the shoes he had left at the end of the sofa.

“You sure you wanna drink that?” Zack asked, glancing up from his boots. “You oughta hit the hay once we’re done here.”

Sephiroth shook his head, placing Zack’s mug in front of him on the table.

“There’s too much to be done,” Sephiroth said.

“Sleep makes your brain work better,” Zack argued.

“One day without rest isn’t enough to compromise my ability to think,” Sephiroth said. Zack just heaved a sigh and shook his head.

Each recounted their experiences guarding Cloud. They agreed that he spent more time than they were comfortable with apparently conversing with Jenova. In any future guard duties, Zack was to stay in the hallway, but still converse with Cloud, doing his best to gain information while giving the bare minimum to prolong the period in which Cloud would be curious enough about him to speak to him. Cloud’s obvious preference for him put the weight of most of the work on Sephiroth’s shoulders. Zack confirmed that he had received no such fond smiles or words and that the blond hadn’t moved from his seat. The apparent trust he afforded Sephiroth would likely be helpful, but neither could quite piece together his goals.

“I’m not saying for sure,” Zack said, tone hesitant, “but I think this may have been his plan all along. He’s been too compliant. If he wanted out, he could raise a lot more hell than he has.”

“I don’t disagree,” Sephiroth answered. “There’s a possibility that he didn’t intend to be captured but is using the opportunity to gather as much information as he is able, but, at least for the moment, it seems like he’s intent on staying.”

They arranged an alternating guard duty schedule, and by the time they were finished, it was time for Zack’s work morning to begin. True to his word, Sephiroth returned to the science department to wake Cloud. If he broke his promise, he’d likely squander that small trust Cloud had in him.

Needless to say, when he returned to find the cell empty, he wasn’t pleased.

He did not say a word, but he did not need to. The air of fury he carried around himself alerted the scientists he passed of his presence, and they were quick to make way for him. When he reentered the waiting room, he shut the door to the department proper so hard that the doorjamb splintered. The secretary let out a squeak of surprise, but it soon turned to a look of fear as Sephiroth made it apparent that she was his target.

“Where is Hojo?” he demanded.

The secretary paled, her hands trembling furiously. Sephiroth wasn’t often one to frighten civilians, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, as the woman was the one who stood between him and the object of his anger. She stammered as she spoke.

“He left,” she explained. “He told me to clear his schedule for today. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Sephiroth left without one word more, leaving another splintered doorjamb behind him.

 

When Cloud woke it was in an unfamiliar state of panic. His eyes burned when he opened them, his lungs working sluggishly, his throat feeling scraped raw. He clutched at his throat wildly, thrashing.

“ _Hush_ ,” she said. “ _Hush. It will all be alright. You have nothing to fear._ ”

Though it was slow going, the panic dripped from him. If Mother said it was alright, then he didn’t have anything to worry about. He realized that he was breathing, but his lungs weren’t pulling and pushing air. The scent of it in his nostrils overrode everything else.

This was different. He’d never been _in_ mako before.

It took a couple of false starts, but he managed to get his eyes open and look around. In front of the mako tube he was in was an unfamiliar man in white, eyes covered by the glint of his glasses, dark hair slung back into a ponytail. He held a clipboard and appeared to be taking notes.

 _What’s happening?_ he asked his mother.

 _“They’re trying to learn about you_ ,” she said. _“They’ll help you._ ”

 _Why do I need their help?_ he said, his distaste for humanity clear in his tone. She laughed, low and fond.

“ _They can teach you what I cannot_.”

 _Like what?_ He clearly doubted they knew anything Mother did not.

_“How to fight with that body of yours. How to better reach Sephiroth.”_

_Why would they help?_

“ _Because they’re familiar with me. Because they know how special you are.”_

Cloud was content. Jenova was content that he was. He did not need to know the mechanics of what would happen. He did not need to listen to Hojo’s quiet plotting, to hear him meticulously outline the moves he would make. He did not respect Hojo, but he would be compliant, because Mother wanted him to be. He did not realize how Jenova was planning to use Hojo as much as Hojo was planning to use Cloud. The arrangement suited her fine. It would give her what she needed.


	10. Chapter 10

He didn’t tell Zack about their missing blond immediately. There was nothing he could do to help, and the news would only worry him. He would be forthcoming when he had actual answers to give.

Sephiroth had cleared his schedule for the morning, intending to guard Cloud. Without that responsibility anymore, he was left with plenty of free time to raise hell until he was given the information he needed. Secretaries very quickly grew tired of dealing with him and his barely contained ire. It took over an hour and half of phone calls to finally manage a meeting with the President.

“Professor Hojo has requisitioned a prisoner of mine without my foreknowledge or approval,” he said, his short temper making him blunt.

The President was not a man easily intimidated, least of all by his own employees. But he, of all people, was aware of exactly how strong Sephiroth was, literally and politically, of how much hell he could raise if he wasn’t placated in some manner.

“Yes, he brought the case to my attention,” the President said evenly. “He has been granted time to study the prisoner and learn the nature of his unexplained enhancements. He will be returned to you once the study is complete.”

“And how long will that take?” Sephiroth ground out through gritted teeth.

“As long as it needs to.”

It was not the answer Sephiroth was hoping for.

He gave a brief salute, offering an equally brief, “Sir,” before leaving without proper dismissal. The President let it slide. Best not to ruffle Sephiroth’s feathers any more than necessary.

Needless to say, Zack was about as happy with it as Sephiroth was.

“What the hell do we do now?” Zack said, from his seat in Sephiroth’s office, coiled and tense with the immediate action he wanted and couldn’t take.

Sephiroth, in a rare, human gesture, could not stop pacing.

“There’s nothing _to_ do now,” he spat. Zack knew better than to think that anger was aimed at him. “We don’t know where he is, we don’t know how long he’ll be held, we don’t even really know what Hojo’s looking for. We know how he got his enhancements. He told us about the mako fountain, Hojo must have been made aware. There’s no sense in any part of this.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Zack said.

“Shit,” Sephiroth agreed.

It was a word repeated at least once in every conversation they had from there on out.

They reconvened time and again, trying to force their brains to make plans that were actually helpful. They could do little more than hound the science department for information on Hojo’s return. They were rebuffed every single time. Months passed. Zack joked that maybe Cloud was just a fever dream; with the complete and utter lack of paper trail, it wouldn’t have been surprising. It earned a huff of laughter from Sephiroth. When he joked that maybe the Shinra executives had decided the blond was more trouble than he was worth and got rid of him, it filled Sephiroth with tension. The fever dream wasn’t a real possibility. This had too much truth, hit too close to home for comfort. Sephiroth had waved away Zack’s apology, but continued to pace nonetheless.

Despite the fact that they were in this together, that Zack had been as stressed as he was about the situation despite his attempts at levity, he almost didn’t even call Zack after he received word that Hojo had returned. The wait for Zack to be removed from his duties (he was holding a seminar on sword-fighting) had been painful enough. He knew he’d hear complaints about the abrupt end of the seminar, but neither Zack nor Sephiroth could care less. Sephiroth was pacing in front of the elevator, nearly wearing a hole in the floor by the time Zack came running up. He had the elevator door open as soon as Zack reached his side, both hurrying inside.

The silence as they rode was tense.

“Do you think he…?”

“If he doesn’t have Cloud with him, I cannot be held responsible for any bodily harm that occurs.”

Zack laughed, but the sound was tight. He was just as anxious as Sephiroth was.

“The President wouldn’t be happy about that.”

“The President’s happiness stopped being my concern when he let Hojo take another human being as his next lab rat.”

Sephiroth’s voice was hard, sharp. This was something they’d gone over multiple times, something they thoroughly agreed on. Sephiroth knew how Hojo could be, knew far too well. Despite the blond’s significant crimes, no one deserved that treatment.

Zack repeated that tight little laugh.

“Don’t let Cloud hear you calling him human, he’d be sure to pick a fight.”

“A small price to pay if it means getting him away from Hojo.”

Zack hummed his agreement, and the rest of the ride was spent in tense silence.

They were not sure what they expected to find in the science department.

It certainly wasn’t Cloud sitting in the waiting room, wearing a SOLDIER third uniform, bouncing his legs impatiently.

They froze in the doorway.

The secretary was the only other one in the room, and she was currently on the phone, unharmed and unafraid. There were no shackles, no handcuffs, nothing to restrain him. No hint of materia-induced grogginess keeping him complacent, no carefully wielded demi spell keeping him contained.

If they didn’t know any better, they would have thought him to be any regular SOLDIER rookie.

Neither was quite prepared for the way Cloud’s face lit up as soon as he saw them, popping to his feet. Both Zack and Sephiroth drew their weapons as Cloud hurried toward them. The blond all but skidded to a stop. The secretary watched, stunned silent, from behind her desk.

The tense moment passed when Cloud blinked his wide eyes and let out a bell-like laugh.

He held up his hands innocently, still smiling at them.

“Sorry, I didn’t think,” he said easily. “It’s exciting seeing familiar faces!”

Zack glanced at Sephiroth, whose lips pressed into a thin line. Cloud looked between the two of them as the seconds drew out, eventually huffing. He kept his hands raised and spun around for them.

“No weapons, see? Can we put the swords away? You’re scaring the secretary.”

Zack’s jaw dropped open. He wasn’t the only one.

Since when did Cloud care about _people_? The last thing he cared about was the lives of civilians, much less their comfort.

“Zack,” Sephiroth snapped, recovering first. He held his hand out expectantly.

It took a moment before Zack realized what he wanted. He had to search for them, but eventually he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, passing them to his superior.

Cloud rolled his eyes, but obligingly held his wrists out. It was only once the cuffs were secure that Masamune and the Buster Sword were tucked away. Sephiroth took hold of Cloud’s right shoulder, Zack his left, as they steered him back into the science department proper.

Cloud whined impatiently.

“We all know I can break these, what’s the point?” Cloud grumbled, mostly to himself.

Sephiroth noticed it quickly because it was familiar. The tension in his shoulders, his hands balled into barely trembling fists. His eyes skittered all over the room, his jaw working as he ground his teeth.

He was about as comfortable in the lab as Sephiroth was, maybe even less. In spite of himself, he felt pang of sympathy. His discomfort grew the longer they were in the labs. He eyed the mako tubes to their right nervously. Sephiroth could almost see the effort it took to force himself to look away.

It wasn’t until they reached the hall with the cells that it became a problem.

Cloud planted his feet, dug in his heels, and leaned backwards against the pressure both Zack and Sephiroth had on him, trying to pull him forward.

“No.”

Zack finally really looked at Cloud then. He was pale. He looked sick. There was a faintly wild look to his eyes than hadn’t been there before, like a cornered animal. He had stopped at balking for now, but that fight-or-flight instinct was building—Zack could see it grow. To an unpracticed eye, Sephiroth betrayed nothing. But when Zack looked up, he could see the way his expression had softened as he looked at Cloud.

“Cloud, you need to understand—” Zack started.

“ _No_ ,” Cloud interrupted. His eyes were still locked on the cells. “I’ve behaved. I’ve done nothing to harm you or anyone around me. I don’t want to make things difficult. I’ve been trying very hard. I don’t want to ruin that.”

The “but I will if I have to” was heavily implied.

Zack looked up at Sephiroth.

“We’ll be brief,” Sephiroth said, an attempt to compromise. He attempted to take another step forward. Cloud only leaned his weight further back in his heels.

When he finally tore his eyes from the cells, it was to meet Sephiroth’s. He had no idea of Sephiroth’s past, didn’t know that his reaction felt painfully familiar, but the desperate look in those eyes would have stopped anyone. He was afraid. He was one step short of panic. He knew he had few options and that most of them were terrible. He was pleading—almost begging, really.

The look they shared drew out into a long moment.

“Sephiroth,” a voice called. He could watch the dread pour over Cloud like water. The tremble in his fingertips spread until both Zack and Sephiroth could feel it.

Hojo approached from behind them, paused to take stock in the situation. It took a moment to put Sephiroth’s plan together before he laughed, cold and mocking.

“That’s quite unnecessary,” the professor said. As he stepped closer, showing no sign of stopping, Zack stepped out of his way. He slid his had onto Cloud’s shoulder, holding it firm.

The effect was instantaneous. If Cloud had looked bad before, he looked like death now. He turned ghostly pale, lips pressed into a thin line. He stared down at his own boots, shaking so hard that it was visible, now. His hands clenched into helpless fists. His breath came short and hard, bordering on hyperventilating.

Something in Sephiroth yielded at the sight. He knew the place Cloud was in. He had been there. It was its own special sort of hell, that overwhelming fear and helplessness. Cloud could have killed Hojo instantly, snapped his neck before the professor could so much as blink. But when fear settled into your bones like that, it took no insignificant amount of time to shake off. After spending so much time unable to fight back against tormentors, it was all too easy to forget that resistance was an option. Like a dog on a tether—enough time spent on the leash, knowing you couldn’t go any further, you forgot that the leash hadn’t always been there, so much so that it could be removed without you leaving the bubble of restriction that had been there for so long.

“You’ll behave, won’t you, Specimen C?” Hojo’s voice was oily and low, a taunt that Cloud must have forgotten he could rise to. Something in Sephiroth’s heart clenched to hear Cloud referred to in such a way. It wasn’t so long ago that he had been “Specimen S.”

“Yes, Professor,” Cloud confirmed to his toes, not daring to raise his eyes.

Zack could see the disgust for Hojo and sympathy for Cloud written clearly on Sephiroth’s face. The only one enjoying the situation was Hojo.

The professor laughed lowly, giving Cloud’s shoulder one last squeeze before leaving.

Without another word, Sephiroth turned them around, steering them right out of the science department. Cloud was still shaking like a leaf, but he wasn’t the only one. Zack could see the tremble in Sephiroth’s fingertips. He knew the look on the general’s face. He hadn’t seen the man so angry since Cloud had first disappeared almost a year ago.

But he did notice that the cuffs were left on.

At first Sephiroth was leading them to the Turk’s interrogation rooms, but seemed to think better of it halfway there. He turned them around and angled for a SOLDIER break room.

The handful of men in the room at the time looked up as one. Most jumped to their feet at the look on Sephiroth’s face alone; his rage was enough that not everyone even noticed Cloud’s handcuffs.

“Out,” Sephiroth snapped, manhandling Cloud through the doorway and to the side. Without a word of complaint, the men filed out as quickly as they could.

“Zack,” Sephiroth said, beginning to steer Cloud to one of the couches. The lieutenant let go of the blond and went to lock the door. Sephiroth was sitting across a coffee table on another couch, opposite of Cloud. Zack went and sat by his side.

“I… apologize,” Sephiroth started. Cloud glanced up at him in confusion, but dropped his eyes just as quickly. The paleness was fading, his face heating. It broke Zack’s heart to see someone so ashamed over a reaction caused by months and months of hell. “It was insensitive of me to bring you into the department, much less into one of the cells. I swear to you, I was unaware that he was in the lab at all, much less so close by.”

The hatred with which Sephiroth snapped that “he” left little doubt as to who he was referring.

“Don’t apologize,” Cloud said. The fear had bled from the blond the further they got from the labs. The only thing keeping him subdued and eyes downcast was the shame. “I should have expected it after the impression I gave you.”

“You _are_ decidedly different from the last time we spoke,” Sephiroth admitted.

The bells were far from his laugh this time; suddenly, the sound was so hollow.

He gave a hopeless little shrug. “Did you really expect me to be the same?”

The resignation hurt to hear.

“He was only supposed to find out how you got your enhancements,” Sephiroth explained, tone strangely gentle. Then the edge slid back into his voice. “He overstepped the limits of his instructions. I intend to see him pay for it.”

Cloud finally looked up at him, and it was with eyes full of wonder.

“ _Why?_ ” he asked. “I’ve been nothing but a menace to you. Why do you care?”

Sephiroth did something he had only done once in the presence of another. He slid the glove from his hand, holding it up so the stark, black 1 was visible.

“I understand how difficult the labs are,” Sephiroth said. He watched the shocked look on Cloud’s face, then began to pull his glove back on. “I was a valued asset at the time; there were restrictions that limited Hojo’s _experiments_ for my safety. I don’t imagine you were afforded the same luxury. Believe me when I say I was not party to your time in the labs; I was kept from any information about your situation. I only knew you weren’t in this building’s science department because I looked for you myself.”

Cloud listened with something like awe on his face. He clearly had not expected Sephiroth’s help—and why would he, considering the way things had been when he was taken? He probably thought Sephiroth was the one who signed him over to Hojo in the first place.

“Hojo is loath to grant his subjects any amount of freedom,” Sephiroth continued. “Do you know why you were released?”

Finally, the blond seemed to settle some. The fear had abated by the time they entered the room, and the shame had melted with Sephiroth’s explanation. He looked nervous and unsure, but far from the panic of before.

“I’ve been enrolled into the SOLDIER program,” he explained, shifting, tugging at the cuffs absently. “Well, sort of.”

“Sort of?” Zack prompted. Cloud shifted again.

“I’m still considered a work in progress, not yet fully functional,” he explained. He referred to himself with such distance, as if he were a machine and not a human being. Had the labs taken even his feeling of personhood? Zack clenched his jaw in anger at the thought.

“And?” Sephiroth continued.

“I’m to be mentored before being fully released to the public,” Cloud said, finally fully meeting his eyes. “I have an inadequate grasp on etiquette, society, and combat. Once I’m complete,” that damn impersonal distance again, “I will be evaluated and placed at an appropriate rank within the SOLDIER program.”

Sephiroth paused. He made a beckoning motion with his hands. Cloud looked at him in confusion for a few seconds before understanding and holding out his hands. The steel crushed easily in Sephiroth’s hands, the cuffs pulling free. Cloud rubbed at his wrists absently as Sephiroth dropped them on the table.

“You’re my assignment, then,” Sephiroth finished, sitting back again.

“Yes,” Cloud answered, before sitting up straighter. “I mean, uh, yes, sir?”

The formality sat strangely between them, Cloud still looking for confirmation that he said the right thing, Sephiroth and Zack almost disturbed at honorific after his behavior before the labs.

Sephiroth was glad to see the arrogance gone from the blond, but not enough to justify the cost.

He sighed, rubbing at his temples.

“You will be with Zack or I at all times,” Sephiroth said. When he finally dropped his hand, he could see the hesitance and concern on Cloud’s face. “Not for fear of you running. Until you understand the way things work, it will be easier to have someone on hand to explain. Zack and I are the only ones aware of your situation, and you’ll likely gather questions that shouldn’t be answered from the other SOLDIERs if left alone with them. No one else would be able to handle your level of enhancement enough to train you, regardless.”

“Yes, sir,” Cloud said, more confidently this time.

“The formality is unnecessary in private,” Sephiroth corrected. The blond faltered.

“Yes, si—uh. Right.”

His hesitance would have been endearing to both Zack and Sephiroth if they weren’t painfully aware of its cause.

Sephiroth stood.

“Zack will be with you, for now,” he explained. “He has more expertise in socialization than I do, and I have people to flay for the mistreatment of someone under my care.”

Cloud watched as Sephiroth left, staring at the door after it swung closed.

Zack clapped a hand to his shoulder, giving the blond an encouraging smile when he looked up.

“I think he likes you,” Zack joked. When Cloud’s jaw dropped a little in shock, Zack couldn’t help but laugh. “You grew on him, kid.” Zack held out a hand to help Cloud to his feet. The blond looked at it curiously for so long that Zack almost retracted it. Hesitantly, Cloud took his hand, then held it longer than was necessary once he was standing, as if he was unsure of what to do with it.

“Boy,” Zack said, gently pulling his hand free. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”


	11. Chapter 11

Honestly, Zack wasn’t exactly sure of what to do with Cloud. Before the labs, he had been an unholy terror who massacred everyone he came across as easy as breathing. Though he had calmed down since they left the science department, he had shown himself to be nervous, afraid, and entirely unsure of everything except the expectation of mistreatment while in the labs. Zack knew that it was crucial for Cloud to become acclimated to people, that he could never be a part of SOLDIER when his only understanding of humans was either as inferior creatures or tormentors. It was entirely possible that, if dropped into a crowd, Cloud would revert to his violent ways out of fear if nothing else. Preparing him for an average life would be slow going.

The only first step he could think of was earning Cloud’s trust himself. The blond was only really familiar with him and Sephiroth, they were a good way to ease him into society. Zack took Cloud to his own apartment, hoping the privacy would stop him from being overwhelmed.

It was a relief to see Cloud taking in their surroundings with curiosity. He was glad to see that the labs hadn’t crushed his longing to learn, the only redeemable trait he’d had before he disappeared. However, he still flinched at loud or sudden noises, hid behind Zack when they came across people, and almost shook with nerves in the glass elevator. When questioned, the blond told him it was like a mako tank, while staring at his toes. Zack apologized and swore at himself internally for not thinking of that and having them take the stairs.

He tried not to notice Cloud wince and step back at the sound of his door unlocking (he didn’t realize how much it sounded like the locks on the cell doors) and led the blond inside, shutting the door behind them. Cloud looked around the apartment with that obvious (and endearing) curiosity again, but didn’t move his feet an inch from the threshold.

“Come on in, make yourself at home,” Zack said, heading into the kitchen to see if he had any decent food left—it was time for dinner, and if they needed to order, he’d rather do it sooner than later.

“What does that mean?” Cloud asked, turning that wondering gaze toward him. Zack met his eyes briefly before giving the fridge one last look and shutting the door.

“Feel free to look around and make yourself comfortable,” he explained, pulling out his phone. He watched as Cloud lit up at the permission and immediately started walking around, going up to various items to inspect them or touch them gently. “I’m gonna order food, do you want anything particular?”

Cloud stopped and looked over his shoulder, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Order?” he asked. Zack sighed.

“There are businesses—groups of people that will make food and deliver it to you for money. Any particular kind of food you want me to ask for?”

Cloud turned around fully, still looking baffled.

“What do you mean, kind?”

Zack shifted—he wasn’t doing as well with this as he thought. He should have remembered sooner the way Cloud had lived in the reactor. The only way he knew of to get food would be to hunt, leaving him at the mercy of his surroundings with few options.

“Different places in the world make their food with different ways out of different ingredients,” Zack said. He watched as understanding passed over Cloud’s face before he nodded and looked back at Zack’s couch, prodding the back cushion.

With another sigh, Zack called and placed an order, watching Cloud’s seemingly amazed exploration of his apartment. By this point, he was standing, mesmerized, at the TV. Zack hung up just in time to see Cloud press the on button and jump about a foot in the air in surprise at the sudden noise and sound. He couldn’t help but grin as Cloud settled, blowing out a hard breath of frustration at his own reaction, before leaning around to the side of the screen.

“What kind of window is this?” he asked himself quietly. He jumped again when Zack couldn’t help but laugh.

“Come on,” Zack said, gesturing him over to the couch. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV off again, making Cloud stop again in surprise, looking between him and the TV. Zack was still grinning when he sat and nodded at the other couch for Cloud to do the same. “We’ll go over electronics later.”

“Electronics?” he asked.

“Later,” Zack repeated. “For now, we need to figure out how this is gonna work.”

“How what will work?” Cloud asked.

“This mentoring thing,” Zack said. “It’d be better if Sephiroth was here while we figured it out, but he’s busy, and I can catch him up later. Is there anything you want us to do one particular way or another?”

The confused look returned.

“I’m to listen and learn from what you think is best,” Cloud answered, completely missing the point.

“That’s what the company wants. What do _you_ want?”

Cloud pursed his lips in thought, though it developed into a frown.

“I don’t want to go back,” he admitted. He seemed to not want to directly mention the labs, but he didn’t have to for Zack to follow. “But you can’t promise me that, can you?”

Zack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No, I can’t,” Zack agreed, watching Cloud wilt in response. “But I can promise you won’t have to go alone. Sephiroth or I will go with you, we’ll make sure you don’t get hurt, okay?”

Cloud looked back up in surprise, before his look turned wary, not sure if he could believe the promise.

“You’ve been through more than enough hell, kid; I can’t stand by and let you suffer.”

“Why not?” Cloud said, as confused as he was suspicious. “I killed a lot of people. I know you didn’t like me last time I saw you.”

“No one deserves what happened to you, Cloud,” Zack said softly. “And besides, you don’t seem to be proud of what you did anymore.”

Cloud looked away, turning vaguely green. Zack cursed under his breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up, I—”

“It’s okay,” Cloud said, though he was still avoiding eye contact. “We can talk about it later. It’s just been a long day.”

Zack, moving slow enough to give Cloud time to protest, put his hand on the blond’s knee. Some of the tension slipped from him, those bright green eyes finally sliding back towards him. Zack was glad he ordered from a place near Shinra tower—the knock on the door came before the silence had time to stretch to a truly awkward place. It made Cloud jump, but he settled back when given a smile. Zack took the monstrous order of food, tipped the runner from the front desk who delivered the food from the front door to Zack’s apartment, and shut the door behind him.

“C’mon, you’re probably hungry, right?” Zack said, setting the food down on the kitchen table, pulling packages from their bags. Cloud seemed hesitant to move at first, but his pace quickened when the smell of the food spread throughout the apartment. When he hesitated at the edge of the kitchen, Zack pulled out a chair for him and nodded toward it. Once he was settled, Cloud began pulling up the corners of packages, trying to see what was inside without Zack noticing—he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to or if he was supposed to wait for permission, but his hunger and curiosity got the better of him. Zack, smiling faintly at his poor attempt at stealth, tossed the bags to the side, passing Cloud a fork as he sat across the table from him.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a bit of everything,” Zack said, peeling open a container. Cloud took his cue and began opening all the packages around him to try and inspect them. He paused his review of the food when Zack took a bite from one container in the middle of the table. Deciding to continue following Zack’s lead, he reached for the same dish.

The moan Cloud gave at the first bite would have been positively filthy out of context. Zack couldn’t help but laugh. Cloud blushed, realizing Zack was laughing at his reaction, but smiled faintly when Zack shook his head and waved dismissively.

“I missed real food,” Cloud admitted, reaching for another bite before swallowing the one he already had.

“What do you mean?” Zack asked carefully; he didn’t want to push Cloud into discussing something he wasn’t ready for.

“All they gave me were drinks,” he said absently, too distracted by the food to fully care about the subject. “They can replace food just fine, but they tasted bad, and got boring really quick.”

Zack snorted a laugh.

“Well, you can eat as much as you want now,” he said, watching as Cloud looked up at him hopefully. “Just don’t eat too much, or you’ll make yourself sick.”

He hadn’t expected them to get through half the food, but it seemed like Cloud ate half by himself before he was done.

“Thank you,” he said while putting the lids back on half-empty containers, with so much sincerity that Zack turned around to look at him. He shook his head and went back to putting their left-overs into the fridge.

“You’re welcome,” he answered. He shooed Cloud back to the couches, insisting that he could finish cleaning up. He hadn’t expected to come back to find Cloud fast asleep, curled up tightly in the corner of a couch.

He guessed it _had_ been a hard day for him.

He realized they never quite figured out anything about how the mentoring would work, but there was no rush. It really probably was better if Sephiroth was around to help, anyway.

Zack draped a blanket over Cloud, who didn’t stir at all. He quietly slipped from the apartment, shutting the door gently behind him, before calling Sephiroth in the hallway.

“Zack?” he answered immediately. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, no worries,” he said, realizing that Sephiroth hadn’t expected him to call so soon and would only be expected to be at least a little alarmed. “He ate and fell asleep on the couch.”

“He what?”

Zack chuckled.

“He was beyond excited for food. Said they only gave him nutrient drinks in the labs. Then he passed out before I could get back to him.”

Sephiroth sighed. He’d been given those drinks on occasion, but never consistently, certainly not for a _year_.

“He was probably as short on sleep as he was food,” Sephiroth said. “He’ll adjust to a proper schedule soon enough.”

“Speaking of needing to adjust, I think more happened in the labs than we realized,” Zack said, hesitant.

“Such as?” Sephiroth sounded as wary as Zack felt.

“I’m not sure, he wouldn’t talk about it,” Zack admitted. “But it’s got something to do with before he was taken.”

Sephiroth hummed in consideration.

“All we can do is wait for him to bring it up. It would do more harm than good to force it from him.”

“I know, I know. I just—I knew it was bad, but it gets worse with everything we find out.”

“We knew it wasn’t a pleasant experience.”

“No, I know. I’m just nervous to find out just how bad it was.”

“We can’t do anything to change what’s happened. All we can do is help him recover.”

“ _And_ get back at them for him. How’s that going?”

When Sephiroth answered, there was something near a growl in his voice.

“The President gave Hojo free reign; he wouldn’t go into detail, but apparently Hojo found something important enough to justify digging deeper. “

Zack swore.

“So there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Nothing official,” Sephiroth agreed.

“What does that mean?” Zack asked.

“It means that, for the foreseeable future, I will go out of my way to make Hojo’s life as difficult as possible. I can push to block any new projects or increasing funding for old ones, call in a few favors to make sure he doesn’t get his way.”

“Not as good as kicking his ass, but good enough.”

“It will have to do,” Sephiroth agreed. “Call me when he wakes tomorrow; we need to decide on the details of how this will work.”

“Sure thing,” Zack said. “See you in the morning.”

“Good night, Zack.”

He pulled his PHS from his ear with a sigh. Their limitations on dealing with Hojo were beyond frustrating. He’d never resented red tape so much in his life. But there was nothing more to be done—nothing that wouldn’t have consequences for SOLDIER, anyway.

But he might be able to figure out how to make everything one big inconvenience for the professor. He could probably manage to keep the science department’s secretaries and interns busy on phones or running pointless errands. He _knew_ he could make sure Hojo’s coffee was made wrong every day.

Was it petty? Sure. But annoying the living hell out of Hojo was more satisfying than sitting on his hands.


	12. Chapter 12

For the majority of his life, Zack was an incredibly heavy sleeper. It took Wutai to break him of it, and even that had been slow going. But after the years of war and emergency, impromptu missions at all hours of the day, he learned to sleep light.

When he jerked awake, it was 0338, by his alarm clock. He sat up quickly, taking stock of the room, before realizing it was the sound of the television turning on that woke him. It took a few long seconds of blinking and yawning for him to remember what had happened yesterday and who in the hell was in his apartment messing with his TV in the too-early morning. He gave one last look to his clock before deciding a later attempt at returning to sleep wouldn’t be worth it and flicked off the alarm.

He wasn’t particularly quiet about getting out of bed, but it was the sound of the door opening that made Cloud jump.

“Cloud?” Zack called, rubbing the sleep from one eye as he stepped out into the rest of the apartment. The blond was standing in front of the television, something held behind his back, and a guilty look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, words rushing from him; it took a while for Zack to realize it was out of fear. “I didn’t mean to—I just—well, earlier—I—I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry.”

It reminded Zack of exactly how much of a handful this would be.

He sighed, stepping out of his doorway.

“No, you’re not in trouble,” he said, coming around the side of the couch. Cloud relaxed a little, but hesitated, still unconvinced. “You were curious, no harm in that. It’s not like you broke something.”

“I still should have waited,” Cloud answered, still hesitant, but the fear had melted from him.

Zack waved him over, flopping down onto a couch in the process. “Don’t worry about it,” he said as Cloud came back to the couches, gently putting the remote on the coffee table, moving slowly and watching Zack, as if he would suddenly change his mind when he saw the remote. The SOLDIER picked it up and flicked the TV off. “What are you doing up so early?”

He glanced away.

“It’s been a while since I knew what time it was,” he admitted. Zack pieced it together then—the scientists worked odd shifts, frequently staying late or coming in early to complete projects. The lights probably never even turned off in the labs; Cloud was probably used to sleeping whenever he could. Zack sighed and got back to his feet.

“Do you drink coffee?” Zack called, making his way into the kitchen. Cloud leaned and craned his neck to watch him.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Right,” Zack mumbled. Reactor and labs, two places that were very unlikely to have coffee available.

Cloud watched Zack in silence as he brewed a pot, dumping enough cream and sugar into Cloud’s mug that he would hopefully be able to stand the bitterness, as unaccustomed to it as he was.

“It’ll wake you up,” he explained, handing him a mug before sitting himself.

Cloud took it with a look of confusion, saying, “But I’m already awake.”

“It’ll get rid of the last of the sleepiness,” he clarified, taking a sip from his own mug.

Watching Cloud try to figure out the drink was more entertaining and endearing than it should have been. Zack hid a smile behind his own mug as he watched the blond sniff the drink and wrinkle his nose. He took a tiny sip before pulling the mug away, face scrunched up in thought as he tried to decide what to make of it. He took another sip. Apparently deciding he liked it, he took a deeper drink before pulling the mug away quickly, one hand clamped over his mouth. Zack had to bite his own lip to hide his laughter as Cloud stuck his tongue out and grimaced, tongue thoroughly burnt.

“Be careful, it’s still hot,” Zack warned belatedly; he had expected Cloud to be at least _somewhat_ familiar with hot drinks, but apparently, those were also hard to come by in reactors and labs.

“Thanks,” Cloud grumbled, the touch of disgruntled attitude enough to make Zack snort a laugh, hiding it poorly in a cough. The blond looked at him with a pout, trying to decide if he was being mocked. Zack just shook his head and pulled out his PHS; Cloud accepted it as the end of the discussion and went back to taking tiny, manageable sips from his mug. He dialed for Sephiroth, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Sephiroth speaking.”

Zack frowned.

“Why do you sound so awake?” Zack asked. “Do you know what time it is?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Sephiroth countered. “What is it?”

“You wanted me to call when Cloud woke up. He’s awake.”

Sephiroth paused, the PHS picking up a rattle and a clatter from his end.

“On my way,” he said before hanging up without a goodbye. Zack tucked his PHS away and returned to his coffee.

“You can talk to people through that?” Cloud asked. Zack looked up to find that he had been carefully watched through the exchange.

“And some other things,” Zack answered. “You’ll get one when you join SOLDIER.”

Cloud blinked in surprise, apparently not having thought that he would be trusted with it.

“Sephiroth’s on his way,” Zack explained. “We’ll hammer out the details of this mentoring thing.”

Cloud nodded once in acknowledgement before returning his focus to his coffee. He was surprised—he had vaguely worried that it might be too sweet for someone who probably never had sugar before. Cloud apparently had a sweet tooth.

 They sat in companionable silence until there was a knock on the door, making Cloud jump and nearly spill his coffee. In any other situation Zack would have found his nerves entertaining, but knowing what caused them made each jump and start sit sour. He got up to let Sephiroth in.

“What were you up to at this hour?” Zack asked, shutting the door behind him. “Coffee’s in the pot,” he added, leaning against the side of the couch as he watched Sephiroth nod and go to make himself a cup.

“I didn’t get much done during the day,” Sephiroth said, carefully not explaining further, in the chance that Cloud would understand what he had been doing instead and feel guilty. Zack hummed in acknowledgement, taking a seat on the couch. He noticed that Sephiroth didn’t ask why they were awake; he had enough experience in the labs to know that Cloud’s sleep schedule was likely entirely shot. Cloud watched the exchange in silence, sipping at his drink and blowing at it absently.

“Etiquette, society, and combat, you said?” Sephiroth asked, sitting next to Zack on the couch, with his mug finally in hand.

Cloud nodded quietly, hiding behind his mug. Sephiroth looked at Zack as he continued.

“We’re both familiar with proper etiquette,” he said. “Though you’re far more capable than I am when it comes to socializing.”

“And you kick my ass where combat’s concerned,” Zack continued for him. “I take socializing, you take combat, and we both bring him up to speed on the basics? He’s unfamiliar with a lot.”

Cloud let them talk without interrupting. He was used to people discussing him like he wasn’t there.

“Trade off daily?” Sephiroth suggested. “He’ll retain more if we don’t try to teach him everything on a specific topic at once.”

“Works for me,” Zack said with a shrug.

Sephiroth and Zack, as the leaders of SOLDIER, were used to making decisions for others. They routinely made plans for their men while they were in the room without consulting them; it was just a part of army life. Neither considered why Cloud wasn’t protesting. It didn’t cross Cloud’s mind to point it out to them.

“We should stay away from the mess hall, at least at first,” Sephiroth said, earning a nod from Zack. “It’d be best to generally avoid overstimulation; it would do nothing but cause problems. Overwhelming him would be counter-productive.”

“I’ll ease him into being around groups nice and slow,” Zack confirmed. “You might want to stick to empty training rooms at first. And I wouldn’t start with the VR rooms for a while.”

“Of course; VR rooms can be overwhelming for many, especially at first,” Sephiroth agreed.

“Is that everything?” Zack asked.

“I have a spare room in my apartment. While I’m sure your couch seems comfortable in comparison,” to what, he didn’t have to clarify (Cloud’s frown went unnoticed), “he deserves a proper bed, and having a space to himself would be beneficial.” Sephiroth was sure of that; extended amounts of time in the labs meant extended amounts of time spent in cell under constant supervision without even the dream of privacy.

“Right, of course,” Zack agreed readily. “Let me know if anything ever comes up, he’s welcome to stay here as a backup.”

“Does this all sound acceptable to you?” Sephiroth asked, finally turning to Cloud, whose eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“What?” he asked, still hiding behind his mug. He hadn’t expected to be consulted on the matter. Zack turned and looked at him expectantly.

“We’re more familiar with the surroundings and circumstances—it would take an extended amount of time to make you familiar enough to suggest your own plans for the situation you’ve been put in, but I have no intention of forcing you into doing anything that you disagree with or find uncomfortable,” Sephiroth explained.

Cloud looked at him like he’d been given a gift.

“It sounds fine to me,” he agreed after a beat, trying to hide his pleased expression behind his mug. Zack grinned, and the corners of Sephiroth’s lips turned up, each glad to see a smile from him. It sat heavy in Sephiroth’s chest, however, that such a small thing meant so much to him. It stole the smile from his lips quickly.

Sephiroth placed his mug on the table and stood.

“Why don’t we begin, then?” he said. “The training rooms will be empty at this hour.”

Cloud took one longing look at the rest of his coffee before nodding and standing.

“Have fun!” Zack called, looking over his shoulder to watch the two leave the room.  He sighed as the door closed and ran a hand over his face.

This would possibly be the most difficult assignment he’d ever had.


	13. Chapter 13

Sephiroth and Cloud walked the halls in silence. Cloud was waiting for Sephiroth to initiate conversation, and Sephiroth wasn’t quite sure of what to say. According to Zack, the time before the labs was a sensitive subject. The time _in_ the labs was beyond sensitive. They had barely interacted outside of those timeframes; they had little common ground, few subjects on which they were both familiar enough to discuss. He couldn’t even think of more details about their assignment to go over. He resigned himself to silence, contenting himself to be glad that Cloud didn’t seem to mind.

He had the button for the elevator pressed before he recognized Cloud’s nervous tension and put together the discomfort a round, glass elevator would cause after an indeterminate amount of time spent in mako tanks. He changed course, waving for Cloud to follow, and led them to the emergency stairwell. Cloud’s relief when he saw the steps was obvious. Sephiroth was glad for their enhancements; it would have been very inconvenient for them to be tired from the stairs before getting to so much as begin their training.

Sephiroth led them to a relatively small training room. Its size meant that it was under-used, most wanting enough space to train with a partner or in a group and to not be cramped in a spar. Despite the fact that they were unlikely to be disturbed, he locked the door behind them to be certain.

Cloud was looking around the room, inspecting the padded walls, the weapons racks, the dummies. Sephiroth sized up Cloud’s muscle tone and build, recalling the previous level of his enhancements and taking into consideration that they might have grown while in the labs, before crossing the room to choose a practice sword for him. It was heavier than he would normally use with a third, but he remembered Cloud wielding a stolen SOLDIER third sword with complete ease. Once he understood the basics, they could find a sword that fit him individually. He might lean toward a rapier for speed, a broadsword for strength, middling swords to duel-wield with, but that was a concern for later. It was best to start him with, what Sephiroth guessed, was a middling weight for him. Too light and he would be unable to use anything but a rapier. Too heavy and the lightness of any other blade would throw off his balance. There was room for adjustment if they started at the median; he just hoped he was correct in his estimate.

Sephiroth passed the blunted sword to Cloud while keeping one for himself. He would never wield a blade that wasn’t Masamune, but the length of that blade would be distracting to a beginner. He needed Cloud to focus on mirroring him to find his form—it would be easier to do if their blades matched.

“Though the shape is similar, wielding a blade is far removed from wielding a blunt object,” Sephiroth explained. “The angles of your strikes, the shape your body must be in, your grip—nothing is the same. You are very proficient with blunt instruments, and, out of habit, you will likely attempt to use your sword in the same manner. You will have to work against this, but relearning will only be a matter of time and practice. Until you have the basics settled in muscle memory, there will be no sparring.”

Cloud looked put out by this idea, but nodded regardless. Sephiroth returned the movement before coming to stand at Cloud’s side, slipping into a basic stance.

“I will demonstrate, you will do your best to copy me, and I will make corrections until you can enter form correctly without me,” he said. He turned his head to watch Cloud attempt to mimic him.

“Stay,” he ordered, standing upright, crossing to Cloud’s side. He readjusted Cloud’s grip, nudged his feet further apart, tapped the back of his knees to urge him to sink lower, used a grip on his shoulders to shift his weight further back.

“Good. Stand upright.” Cloud complied. “Reenter your stance.”

Sephiroth lost track of how long they repeated the process, entering and exiting the same position, making adjustments that grew smaller with each repetition. Cloud took direction well, though Sephiroth was surprised to see that he responded better to physical corrections than verbal. His previous instruction would have been entirely from Jenova, who was nothing more than a voice. Or perhaps he taught himself with practice? Regardless, Sephiroth made the switch as soon as he noticed. Everyone learned differently, it was better to tailor to a student’s needs than attempt to force a particular teaching method on them.

Once Cloud mastered one stance, they moved to another, and another. Cloud grew frustrated and impatient—he was certain he could pick up swordplay through hands-on learning and spars. He was used to throwing himself into fights, used to more action than this. It grew incredibly dull incredibly quickly. He had yet to so much as swing the sword in his hands.

Sephiroth could see his growing frustration, but ignored it. Cloud would be crippled if he attempted to fight without the basics built into muscle memory, and Sephiroth would not be satisfied with teaching him to be a mediocre combatant, not when he saw so much potential.

Sephiroth wasn’t sure of quite how long it took, but he had Cloud practicing forms until he saw his arms start to shake from tiredness. Regardless of how enhanced one was, there was always a breaking point.

“Enough, Cloud,” Sephiroth interrupted. The blond gave a huge sigh of relief, gingerly stepping upright again.

“Who knew something so tedious could start to hurt,” Cloud grumbled, low enough that he thought he wasn’t overheard. Sephiroth plucked the sword from his hands, hiding a smile as he returned both to the weapons rack. Cloud was rolling his shoulders with a grimace when he came back, tilting his head from side to side to stretch his neck.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get accustomed to being sore quickly,” Sephiroth promised, not entirely able to keep the smug amusement out of his eyes. Cloud scowled, and it made it that much harder for Sephiroth not to grin at him. Despite the terror he had wreaked before, he was decidedly still a trainee. He waved a hand for Cloud to follow him from the training room, the blond falling into step behind.

“Would you like to take the elevator or the stairs?” Sephiroth asked, tone even, not caring one way or the other. He knew Cloud would be uncomfortable in the elevator, but the hike up the stairs on shaking legs might not be worth it.

After a pause, he said, “Stairs.” He earned nothing but a nod of acknowledgement before they made a beeline to the exit.

They got up five flights before Cloud asked, “How many more floors?”

Sephiroth had to fight back another smirk.

“Ten,” he said.

Cloud groaned.

Sephiroth considered offering the elevator again, but Cloud had made his decision, and if he changed his mind, all he had to do was ask. He didn’t press the matter.

He heard no more complaints, but as he opened the door to exit the stairwell, Cloud did mutter, “Thank _gods_.”

Sephiroth led them both to his apartment and ushered the blond in. He flicked on the lights as Cloud stood hesitantly in the doorway.

“The last door on the left down the hall is a shower; I expect you’ll want to use it,” Sephiroth explained.

“Shower?” Cloud asked.

So this is what Zack meant about explaining the basics.

Sephiroth gestured for Cloud to follow him and showed him into the bathroom. He pulled back the sliding glass door and turned on the water. Cloud was apparently not tired enough that he couldn’t look amazed.

“Clean up,” Sephiroth said. “The bottles have soap in them. The one labelled shampoo is for your hair.”

Cloud nodded, reaching one hand out to put it under the spray before immediately pulling it back.

“It’s hot,” he said in surprise.

“Would you prefer it cold?” Sephiroth asked, honestly unsure. Cloud seemed just as uncertain.

“No,” he said, still not quite confident. “The rivers never got hot.”

Sephiroth hummed at the offered explanation; he’d had to clean up in enough rivers in Wutai to know that hot water was very, very hard to come by in the wild. He wondered absently how he had been kept clean in the labs, as he had always had access to showers. The (unfortunately likely) thought that Cloud had simply been hosed down was quickly and decidedly set aside.

Nodding to the rack, Sephiroth said, “Use the towels to dry off when you’re done. I’ll get you a clean uniform.” After a nod of recognition, Sephiroth slipped from the bathroom. He returned with the promised uniform, slipping it into the bathroom with his eyes closed for the sake of Cloud’s privacy. He was fully aware that Cloud was probably unaccustomed to being given his own space and room for modesty, but he adamantly refused to continue denying the blond something so basic.

Cloud was taking significantly longer than Sephiroth expected. He told himself that just because _he_ took quick showers (or as quick as they could be with that much hair to maintain) didn’t mean everyone else did. Even if the novelty of a hot shower wasn’t enough, he probably would have stalled anyway, considering the wonders hot water did for sore muscles. He had gathered paperwork and a laptop from the small office next to his bedroom, trying to be productive while waiting, but as the time passed, he wondered more than once if he ought to check on Cloud. He told himself he would give it another five minutes before knocking. Luckily, he heard the water shut off at around minute three.

It took another few minutes for Cloud to successfully fuss with his uniform enough to get it put on properly, but Sephiroth was just glad that he didn’t have to go check in on him. When he finally exited the bathroom, his blond spikes were droopy and his skin faintly pink from the heat of the water. Sephiroth looked back down at his work as he spoke.

“We have some time to kill,” he explained. “We’ll meet up with Zack again for dinner; the more time you spend socializing, the easier it will be. Until then, you’re free to explore the apartment as much as you’d like. I only ask that you do not open any drawers—a point of etiquette. It’s a way to respect someone’s privacy. If you have any questions, I would be happy to answer them. If you want to talk, that is an option as well. There is food and water in the refrigerator if you’re hungry or thirsty.”

Cloud blinked and then gave a nod that Sephiroth only barely caught sight of before taking off to explore. He had been comfortable enough in Zack’s apartment to look around, but he trusted Sephiroth more, and stopped holding back on his curiosity. He peeked under cushions and in closets, flipped through hanging shirts and books left on the coffee table. He spent at least five minutes turning the television off and on before he began flicking through channels. Eventually growing bored, he went into the kitchen. He fussed with the faucet, turning it off and on, adjusting the temperature from burning hot to freezing cold. He pulled multiple items out of the fridge to smell them experimentally. Sephiroth stopped keeping as close an eye on him, taking the opportunity to get ahead on as much work as he could.

Eventually, Cloud’s curiosity was sated, and he came to sit across from Sephiroth with a water bottle and a bowl of blackberries—the only familiar food he saw. He watched Sephiroth intently as he ate and drank, but seemed content in the silence. While Sephiroth was not overly fond of the attention, he was able to ignore it and continue his work. Besides, it would be better for Cloud to learn to speak up when he needed or wanted something, instead of always being prompted. Eventually, he finished the water and berries, settling them aside to cross his arms on the table and lean forward, resting his chin on his forearms. If it weren’t for the bright green of his eyes, Sephiroth would have thought him asleep.

“What kind of work do you do?” Cloud asked eventually. It wasn’t the question he was expecting. He glanced up before turning to signing papers.

“I run the SOLDIER program, primarily,” he explained.

Sephiroth thought he would ask for details. He glanced up as the silence stretched, but Cloud only cocked his head to one side in thought.

“You’re always busy,” Cloud said; he hadn’t been around the man long enough to see that for himself, but he supposed it wasn’t a particularly difficult deduction. “Why was I assigned to you when you already don’t have time to spare?”

“Zack and I are the only ones familiar with you and we’re the most qualified to help.”

“You mean you’re the only ones they think can stop me if I cause trouble.” It was a flat statement, strangely without resentment. Sephiroth looked up and finally put his pen down.

“Partially,” Sephiroth admitted.

“I’m not going to cause trouble,” Cloud insisted.

“I don’t expect you to.”

Cloud frowned. “But everyone else does.”

Sephiroth did his best to be gentle when he said, “Considering the precedent, it’s to be expected.”

The frown deepened. Cloud paled.

“I’m _not_ going to do that again,” he insisted, sitting upright, suddenly sounding nervous, as if it were crucial to him that Sephiroth understood that.

“I believe you,” he answered, tone quieter, gentler.  Cloud seemed to calm.

“I just didn’t know any better,” Cloud said earnestly. It spoke volumes on his trust in Sephiroth that he was even allowing the subject to be discussed.

“Because you were raised in isolation?” Sephiroth prompted. He wouldn’t mention anything about being superhuman or whispering voices until Cloud broached the matter himself.

“Because of Mother,” he clarified, voice a soft, fragile thing. There was a hurt there, and it ran deep.

“And now you know better?” he asked. “Did she change her mind?”

“She…” Cloud hesitated, looked down. This was beyond a sore subject. Sephiroth couldn’t even name all the emotions that flitted across his face, only the underlying pain and strange sense of longing.

“Cloud,” Sephiroth uttered. “You don’t have to—”

“She left,” he blurted. His hands balled into fists in his lap. “She told me everything would be okay, that I could trust Hojo, and then—it couldn’t have been more than a week when she _left_. I never felt so alone, she’d been with me for as long as I could remember, and when I needed her most she _left_. I don’t know if it was something Hojo did or if she just wanted to go. I tried so hard to reach her but nothing worked. I couldn’t even leave to try and go back home to find her, they kept giving me something in a needle that kept me from moving, and she was wrong or she _lied_ , because nothing was okay, and I _couldn’t_ trust Hojo, and—”

Somewhere during the speech, Sephiroth had jumped to his feet. He knelt next to Cloud, taking the blond’s hands in his.

“Cloud,” he said quietly, but it was enough to interrupt. He squeezed his hands gently. When the blond turned those wide eyes to him, they were full of tears.

“Why did she leave me?” he asked, hushed, heartbroken.

Sephiroth leaned up enough to pull Cloud into his arms. The blond ducked his head, fitting perfectly beneath Sephiroth’s chin, his hands grabbing desperately at Sephiroth’s jacket, the tears finally falling.

“It’ll be okay, Cloud,” Sephiroth muttered, rubbing soothing circles against Cloud’s back. Sephiroth shushed him when he shook his head.

“What if she never comes back?” he forced out between sobs and hiccups.

“I’ll be here,” Sephiroth said, hesitant, unsure if he was handling this right. Tears weren’t exactly his area of expertise, but he had to try. “I know it won’t be the same, but I won’t leave you.”

Cloud pulled away and looked up at him with hopeful, watery eyes.  

“Promise?” he asked, voice wavering.

Sephiroth nodded, smoothing the still-damp hair out of Cloud’s face. If the motion was a little too tender, slightly more intimate than was called for, neither noticed nor cared.

“I promise,” he answered.

Cloud bowed his head, resting his forehead against Sephiroth’s collarbone again. He was still sniffling and rubbing at his eyes, but he was quieting. Sephiroth held him until he was calm again.

If he felt a little too right within his arms, it was nothing Sephiroth would admit to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering where the hell I'm taking this, I wanted to give you guys a heads up about some stuff. Jenova will be definitely be coming back. Cloud isn't lying about anything: she really did disappear, he is responding sincerely to his time in the labs, he's relying on Zack and Sephiroth (especially Sephiroth) since they're the only non-threatening people he has left but he isn't trying to use them. But! I promise I will still get to the events of the original game. Cloud will still be the villain and Sephiroth will still lead AVALANCHE, the proper role reversal is still coming! I just didn't want to put out this chapter and have people think that I'm ditching the initial premise.   
> Massive thank you to everyone who's been reading, left kudos, or commented; you guys are 100% my motivation for continuing. I really hope you've enjoyed everything so far and you'll like where things go from here!


	14. Chapter 14

Cloud was simultaneously more and less difficult to handle than Zack and Sephiroth anticipated. He was incredibly impatient with himself and quickly grew irritated that he wasn’t on Zack or Sephiroth’s level in any of the areas they were mentoring him. They explained more than once that the comparison was unfair, that he only lacked practice, but it didn’t seem to stop ease his frustration. He did, however, learn very quickly. Sephiroth rarely had to make the same correction in their combat practice more than once. Once a new concept was introduced, he never needed a second explanation. He maintained conversation with ease, his only handicap being the limited amount of subjects with which he was familiar enough to discuss.

His quick progress was apparent to anyone who looked. More than once, their training sessions had been observed to demonstrate Cloud’s improvements, justifying the continuation of the assignment, despite the amount of time it took from Shinra’s highest ranking officers. Unfortunately, allowing observation of board members meant unintentionally allowing other onlookers, in particular, other SOLDIERs who were curious as to why their general was suddenly so busy and absent from his office. All it took was one man to stumble upon their training sessions before the entire department knew that Sephiroth had finally taken a protégé. It became a common thing for their training to be spied on, though neither were aware; the SOLDIERs were very good about scattering the second Sephiroth and Cloud began to wrap up. They would have been completely unnoticed if they didn’t begin to pester Zack about the subject. Zack politely dodged their questions as long as they could, but when eventually pressed, he pulled the security clearance card, apologizing but insisting that he wasn’t at liberty to explain. When the other SOLDIERs noticed that Zack was spending as much time as Sephiroth with the strange recruit, they began to press harder. It wasn’t until Zack brought Cloud out for what would be his first social outing that he realized quite how bad it was.

It had been a month since Cloud had returned and Zack was confident a dinner out would be something he could handle. He was now familiar with modern conveniences and most common colloquial phrases, could carry on a conversation, had decent table manners. They had gotten as far as they could within the confines of Zack and Sephiroth’s respective apartments. Zack had two options on how they would progress from there. He could take Cloud out into public but keep them as isolated as they could to help him adjust to larger groups of people or he could ease him into larger groups by having other SOLDIERs over, slowly increasing the number of people present until Cloud could handle a group without a problem. Zack had been leaning significantly toward the latter, but with the way the SOLDIERs began pestering him about Cloud, it seemed like a recipe for disaster. Cloud would be the center of attention and hounded with questions he either wouldn’t know how to answer or wouldn’t be sure if he was allowed to answer. It seemed more likely that being the focus in such a situation would do more harm than good, so Zack brought Cloud to a diner just far enough from the heart of the sector to be less thoroughly populated while not  being in a shady part of town.

Cloud had been nervous the second they left Shinra tower. He wasn’t overly obvious in his discomfort, but it also wasn’t particularly difficult to notice that he was far from his comfort zone. He started at loud noises and seemed to be trying to watch everything at once. He went out of his way to dodge around people until Zack caught his elbow, keeping him walking in a straight line, despite the fact that it made him bump shoulders with strangers. He couldn’t seem to decide if the passersby were threats to him or if he was the danger himself, but he didn’t seem comfortable with either option. Zack picked up their pace, dragging him from the heart of the crowds. Maybe taking him out first wasn’t the best idea after all, but he was committed now.

Once they got into the restaurant itself, things seemed to settle. There was still a slightly frantic look on Cloud’s face, his eyes skittering across the other customers, half-hiding behind Zack as the SOLDIER spoke to the hostess and got them a table. Cloud sat at the table first, his back to the wall, and Zack squeezed his shoulder once as he went to his own seat.

“Everything’s fine, see?” he said quietly with an encouraging smile. “No one hurt you, and you haven’t hurt anyone.”

“Isn’t it a little early to make that call?” Cloud asked; Zack grinned in response.

“No way,” he answered. “You’re doing great.”

Their waiter collected their drink order (two waters) and left them menus. Cloud was reading his over while Zack sat with his chin in his hand, inspecting the restaurant; he’d been here plenty of times and already knew his order. He was glad for it, too, as he looked up just in time to see a group of second class SOLDIERs being led to the table next to them. They looked at Zack the same time the first looked at them, and his suddenly stormy expression made most of them falter in their stride.

Sure, theoretically, it could be coincidence; in fact, he was sure that the group intended to insist it was. But the three leading the group were the three who had been pressing him hardest for information on Cloud. For this group to turn up only a minute after they did? Zack didn’t buy it. Especially not when he watched alarm flicker over their faces when they made eye contact. His expression grew darker the closer they got, but the three recovered quickly, taking their seats closest to Zack and Cloud’s table. If he wasn’t already convinced that this was intentional, the way the rest of their group looked hesitant and kept glancing among themselves would have done it.

“Hey, lieutenant,” one of them greeted, dropping into his seat. Cloud looked up immediately, looking between Zack and the grinning stranger. His hesitance was clear, and he watched Zack, unsure of how he should be acting. When Zack didn’t so much as glance at him, but instead looked outright furious, Cloud dropped his eyes back to his menu, holding it a little higher to hide behind it.

“Corporal,” Zack said, tone icy. If the group wasn’t nervous before, they sure were now. Even Cloud looked up—this wasn’t a voice he’d heard from Zack before. He quickly looked back down.

“Hi,” the SOLDIER said, ignoring Zack to look at Cloud, who looked up nervously when it was clear he was the one being addressed. “I’m Donovan. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I—” Cloud started.

“Donovan,” Zack interrupted. “Aren’t you on clean up duty for the VR rooms?”

The man blinked and stared back in confusion.

“No?” he answered. “I was on Thursday.”

“Must have been a scheduling error,” Zack said, tone flat, making it clear that it wasn’t. “You’re on tonight. Better go get started, or you’ll be there all night.”

“Sir, I—”

“As a matter of fact, bring your friends with you. The more the merrier.”

“ _Sir_ —”

“Have I made myself clear, Corporal?”

The waiter watched in the background, clearly coming to take their orders, but only stood hesitantly to the side. Donovan looked frustrated, damn near angry, but he swallowed it and got to his feet.

“Yes _sir_ ,” he said, acid in his tone. The rest of the table stood up with him and followed him from the diner. He was hit on the arm and shoved more than once with a lot of grumbling from his fellows. When the door closed behind them, Zack finally sighed and looked back at Cloud, who was staring at him in alarm. He opened his mouth to say something before the waiter interrupted him.

“Are we, uh, ready to order?” he asked, still hesitant after the scene he’d just witnessed. Zack gave him a weary smile and gave his order, Cloud quietly following suit. When the waiter left, the blond just stared at him, obviously waiting for an explanation.

“Some of the other SOLDIERs have noticed you,” Zack said, sounding apologetic. “They’re curious. They’ve been told not to push it and that they’ll get answers eventually, but apparently, some of them thought it was negotiable.”

“I—you didn’t have to,” Cloud said, though clearly unsure of himself. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

Zack shook his head.

“I don’t want you in over your head because someone couldn’t leave well enough alone,” he answered. “Besides, they were the ones causing trouble, not you.”

Cloud looked like he didn’t quite believe him.

“Sephiroth used to be as uncomfortable around people as you are,” Zack explained. “I tried to ease him into it, but some people started pushing, just like Donovan and his buddies were. I didn’t want to make a fuss so I didn’t push back, so Sephiroth didn’t know what to do and ended up biting someone’s head off without meaning to. That bad blood took a while to clear up and, once he realized what he did, it took me months to get him to talk to someone other than me outside of work again. I’d rather pull rank and make people irritated at _me_ than push you too far and have you blame yourself if you make a mistake because you weren’t ready and I _knew_ you weren’t ready but didn’t do something to stop it. They knew punishment was a possibility when they followed us after being warned; they’ll get over it quick. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

It took a long, hesitant pause, but eventually Cloud nodded.

In retrospect, the interruption was probably a good thing. In comparison to the encounter, the rest of the dinner seemed easy. They maintained easy conversation, Cloud remembered to smile and thank the waiter when appropriate, and none of the earlier anxiety plagued the blond on their way back. Zack dropped Cloud off at Sephiroth’s apartment, where he’d been staying since that first night. Before he could leave, Cloud brought up the corporal and his friends, double checking with Sephiroth that what happened was really okay. It should have stung that Zack’s word wasn’t enough on its own, that Cloud felt the need to ask Sephiroth, but it had become clear very early on that Cloud just trusted Sephiroth more. The lieutenant and general agreed that it wasn’t particularly surprising; he had favored Sephiroth since they met, and when their shared experience in the labs was considered, it only made sense that that favoritism would have grown. Zack had long since stopped taking offense at these little gestures of preference.

Reassured that the punishment was appropriate and that he wasn’t to blame for anything, the tension immediately fled Cloud and he excused himself to turn in early. Zack lingered just inside the doorway.

“We’re starting to run out of time,” Zack said, arms folded as he looked down the hall to the door Cloud had disappeared into.

“For?” Sephiroth asked.

“For him. To get him ready.”

Sephiroth gave him a considering look.

“The board is happy with his progress. They don’t seem to have a problem with the wait, as long as we maintain the current rate of improvement.”

“I’m not talking about the brass. I’m talking about SOLDIER.”

“I would be surprised if efforts to interrupt didn’t dip after word of the corporal’s punishment spread.”

“But for how long? I give it a couple of weeks, a month at the longest before someone tries again.”

“Then punish them again. There’s no sense in compromising the assignment for the sake of other’s curiosity.”

“Still, there’s only so long we can delay.”

“Then make sure he’s ready before we get to that point.”

“I’m _trying_ , but rushing won’t help either.”

“He’s resilient. He’ll manage.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then he’ll tell us.”

“Last time, he sprained his shoulder and he didn’t say anything; it was a week before you realized what happened.”

“He admits to lacking social ability far easier than he does combat. He’s always admitted to his ignorance; it’s physical weakness that frustrates him. He spent too long as the top of the food chain to tolerate anything else.” Sephiroth only said it after a glance down the hall. Cloud still took poorly to references to his past, be it his time with Jenova or Hojo.

“So I just push him harder and pray he’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“If you’re hesitant about it, tell him what you plan to do and why. Let him choose if he prefers a quicker pace or risking the SOLDIERs interfering.”

“What if he picks wrong?”

“What if you or I pick wrong? That risk has always been present.”

“Come on, you know what I’m saying.”

“Then pay attention to him. If he seems to be in over his head, pull back. There’s not much else to do.”

Zack frowned.

“You can prepare him in time,” Sephiroth said, being encouraging by virtue of his simple and obvious faith in Zack’s ability. “If you get too much push back from the SOLDIERs too quick, send them to me. A reminder of rank and respect for security clearance ought to buy more time.”

“So you’ll scare them into backing off.”

Sephiroth smiled; it was clear he was itching for the opportunity. He’d grown surprisingly protective of Cloud since his return from the labs. Doubly so after the news of Jenova’s departure had come to light. Her sudden absence still made Zack uneasy, but for now, it seemed to be beneficial.

Zack shook his head, his own smile lighting his face.

“You’re terrifying when someone crosses you, you know that?”

“It’s a talent of mine.”

Zack laughed, and that little smile on Sephiroth’s face grew just a hair wider.

“Good night, O Terrible Demon of Wutai,” Zack said in a jokingly lofty voice with a bow. From anyone else, that title stung. But Zack had been by his side through all of Wutai. He had caused as much hell as Sephiroth did, and even when Sephiroth came back from the few missions they weren’t assigned together, drenched in blood, Zack never so much as blinked, much less treated him different. When others referred to him as the Demon of Wutai, it invoked their fear. When Zack used it, it was in mocking those that gave him that title in the first place.

Sephiroth shook his head, but his smile didn’t fade.

“Go home, Fair,” he said, tone light.

“Sir, yessir!” he answered, flicking Sephiroth a pristine salute before leaving. Though he had arrived at the apartment nervous about Cloud’s situation, that tension had disappeared. They had a plan that seemed like it would work, and Sephiroth’s unwavering support was maybe the single best way to bolster his confidence. Everything would be fine—between the two of them, they would force it to be fine, one way or another.

Sephiroth returned to his office, intending to work a few more hours to make up for the time he would spend training Cloud tomorrow. He was used to spending more time with the blond; he usually took dinner with Cloud, Zack a common but not perpetual addition. Despite faintly missing the interaction, he was perfectly aware that there would be many upcoming meals they wouldn’t share as Zack continued to help Cloud adjust to the presence of more people. In honesty, it was probably for the best, anyway. He needed the time to work; he was almost always behind on his deadlines now that he had to spend hours at least every other day training Cloud. Theoretically, there were the evenings they could spend together, but Cloud fell asleep early, whether he was in his own bed or mid-conversation on the couch. Sephiroth assumed it was a holdover from the years in the reactor when he had no schedule; while that would be a problem when he joined SOLDIER proper and began taking missions, it was nothing more than an inconvenience at the moment.

What he did not expect was for a knock on the door, about half an hour after Zack left.

“Come in,” he called, putting his pen down. Cloud poked his head in. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he admitted, entering the office the rest of the way. Sephiroth looked at him in confusion.

“What is it, then?” he asked. This was new.

Cloud crossed to the desk, looked at the free chair, then back up at Sephiroth, asking permission to sit. The general nodded, and he dropped into the chair, placing the book in his hand on his lap.

“I’m not tired,” he explained. He timed it poorly, as Sephiroth could watch him trying to fight back a yawn. It took a practiced eye to see it, but his expression softened.

“I didn’t think you would want company, considering the night you’ve had,” Sephiroth said. He didn’t mention that he wouldn’t have sought out his company anyway, both fully aware that he would likely fall asleep within half an hour.

“You’re not company,” Cloud said absently, his concentration directed to not yawning and not rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Oh?” Sephiroth asked, something like fondness edging into his voice.

“You’re Sephiroth,” he answered, as if that explained everything.

Sephiroth couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped him.

“You’re exhausted, Cloud. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” he asked.

“’M not tired,” he protested. It couldn’t be further from convincing.

“If you’re sure,” he said, picking his pen back up to continue his work. From the corner of his eye, he could see Cloud finally give in and rub at his eye. The blond picked up his book, slumped low in his chair, and began to read. He was a decided distraction from the paperwork; it was too tempting to watch as Cloud slid lower and lower in the chair until his head was propped up against the back of it. His eyes drooped, blinking heavily and too long as he fought to keep them open. His head began to nod before he suddenly snapped it back up again, frowning, attempting to refocus on his reading. More than once, he shifted himself back to sit completely upright, only to slowly slump back in his seat.

Something in Sephiroth’s heart warmed. Despite Cloud’s considerable determination, it was clear that he was going to cave and fall asleep any minute. It was obviously a battle for him to stay awake. Though Sephiroth paused to consider, filtering through his memories, he couldn’t recall a time when someone had put in so much effort just to be around him for a few minutes longer.

Zack was Cloud’s teacher in socializing. It stood to reason that he would be Cloud’s favorite person to socialize with. Despite Sephiroth’s conviction that that was true, he was slowly being proved wrong. Cloud trusted him more. Cloud smiled for him more, laughed more freely. He was more willing to touch him absently—their shoulders pressed together while watching a movie, leaning over him to reach something, taking his hand to stop him when he walked too fast for Cloud’s shorter stride to match. To argue against this, Sephiroth reminded himself that Cloud was more playful with Zack. They traded elbows to the ribs, Cloud jokingly turning insolent, sticking his tongue out, flicking Zack and then dancing out of the way of retribution. But there was a warmth in Cloud’s voice when he spoke with Sephiroth. There was a fondness that he mistrusted at first—he’d heard that fondness from him before, caused by the blond’s conviction that they were both superhuman. But it became clearer and clearer that that conviction had long since been dispelled, yet the fondness stayed.

And, apparently, he was willing to trade time he could be asleep, time that he normally refused to yield with a mulish determination, just to be around Sephiroth. They _had_ barely seen each other that day.

Sephiroth refused to acknowledge that it was because Cloud apparently missed him.

Cloud clearly cared significantly for Sephiroth, and, while he seemed to be entirely unaware of it, he had no problems acting on it. Sephiroth refused to so much as let himself think that he might feel the same way.

If he did, he’d be beyond in over his head. He’d be out of his depth and very, very deep in trouble.

Easier to deny those feelings before they had room to grow. It was unclear if the thought of them being rejected or reciprocated frightened him more.

Likely reciprocation. If they both felt the same, Sephiroth wasn’t sure where their relationship would go. Only that it would be something the company would be very, very disapproving of.

No sense in risking putting Cloud in trouble with Shinra. Not over feelings that clearly, obviously didn’t exist.

He latched onto their nonexistence. He clung to it. He wasn’t sure where he’d be without it, only that the prospect was as terrifying as it was exciting.  


	15. Chapter 15

After the night before, when Cloud visited his office and fell asleep in his spare chair (he looked so peaceful that Sephiroth was unwilling to wake him and carried him to bed, though he adamantly refused to acknowledge any deeper feelings attached to the event), Sephiroth began taking closer notice of Cloud’s behavior. What he noticed set him incredibly on edge.

Over their shared breakfast, Cloud had leaned up against him while Sephiroth drank his coffee, waiting for his breakfast to pop from the toaster. He leaned well into Sephiroth’s personal space, peeking over his shoulder to snoop on his paperwork, their cheeks nearly brushing. He became determined to teach himself how to braid using internet videos, and requisitioned Sephiroth’s hair to do so. They spent hours like that, Sephiroth on the floor doing work, Cloud fussing with his hair until he reached his goal. He insisted on even more time to “practice,” though more than once it devolved into running his fingers through Sephiroth’s hair (Sephiroth refused to acknowledge his own participation in this event).

Sephiroth was not very familiar with romantic relationships, but these behavior patterns were distinctly different from how his men or even Zack behaved with him. He began to grow nervous that he had accidentally slipped and fallen in over his head without even knowing it.

He became sure of it when Cloud fell asleep against his shoulder during a movie night and Zack gave him a distinct, knowing look.

Sephiroth ignored it, but his stomach couldn’t decide if it wanted to sink or flutter.

To keep his mind off the matter, he began to push Cloud harder in training. They had always moved at quick pace because, frankly, Cloud learned too fast for anything else. But the more difficult regimen was enough to keep them focused on their work instead of on each other. If it had the extra benefit of making Cloud irritated with him for the sudden pick up in speed, it was an added bonus.

He hadn’t realized the remaining, unintentional intimacy between them until Zack came to sit in on a session. Cloud still responded best to physical corrections than verbal, and Sephiroth didn’t notice the way his own touch lingered. The SOLDIERs and board members that spied on their sessions thought that it was a teaching tactic and left it at that. Zack, however, knew him better—knew exactly how much he usually avoided touching others. When Sephiroth caught Zack giving him that knowing look again, he had to turn his back; he wasn’t sure if he’d pale in nervousness or flush with embarrassment.

He had assumed it would end there, but Zack lingered one night after dropping Cloud off after dinner. The blond had disappeared into his bedroom to turn in and Sephiroth had turned to Zack in order to let him out of the apartment, only to find his friend looking at him with his arms folded.

“… what?”

“You need to be careful with Cloud.”

Sephiroth’s stomach sank. He knew where this was going. He could only hope Zack would let him push it aside.

“If you’re referring to my alteration of his training regimen, I can assure you he’s perfectly able to keep up with it, despite his complaints of being sore.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Sephiroth.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Sephiroth, too used to intimidating others into getting his way, forgot that Zack knew him well enough to withstand even his most menacing look. The lieutenant showed no signs of folding, even raised an eyebrow as the moment stretched. Sephiroth sighed.

“I sincerely doubt he even realizes what he’s doing, Zack.”

“And do _you_ realize what you’re doing?”

This earned him another sharp look. A look that he ignored.

“If you’re referring to training—”

“I’m not, Sephiroth. You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t insult both our intelligence by pretending otherwise.”

The general looked away.

“I began to follow his lead without realizing it,” Sephiroth admitted, glancing down the hall to be sure Cloud wasn’t eavesdropping. “I will make adjustments. I doubt he realizes what he’s doing.”

“And if he does?”

Sephiroth looked back at Zack, somewhere between alarmed and disbelieving. The man shrugged.

“He’s not stupid, Seph,” Zack said, dropping his arms. “He may still be learning how to interact with people, but I’m sure that, at least on some level, he knows what he’s doing.”

Sephiroth frowned.

“All I’m saying,” Zack continued, “is that you might want to have a talk with him before this gets out of hand.”

“It’s not _going_ to get out of hand,” Sephiroth insisted. “Shinra would be beyond displeased if we…”

“Fuck Shinra.”

Sephiroth looked at him with something near alarm.

“If you ask me, you’ve both been through too much shit—you both deserve someone that makes you happy. Besides, what can the company really do about it?”

“Fire us,” Sephiroth said immediately. “Strip me of rank. Toss either of us back in labs. Station us on opposite ends of the world. I could go on.”

Zack sighed in frustration as if Sephiroth was missing an obvious point.

“Any of those would do more harm than good for them. You’re both valuable assets; you both can do more for them as members of the company with rank than anywhere else, and you’ve already gotten as enhanced as I think is humanly possible. Besides, there are no conflicts on opposite ends of the world to station you at. They need you both here. If the price of your cooperation is letting you two be together, they’re not going to stop you.”

“I…”

“Just think about it, Sephiroth,” Zack said gently, putting on hand on his shoulder. “It might be worth the risk.”

When Sephiroth nodded mutely, Zack flashed him a smile before taking his leave. Sephiroth wandered into his office, sitting at his desk and staring hard at his paperwork. Maybe Zack had a point. Maybe it would be worth it. But something deep in his gut felt icy at the thought. Cloud probably had no real concept of what romance was. The last thing he wanted was to make a move only to spoil things between them. They’d grown close enough that he was loath to think of a romantic misstep putting distance between them that they wouldn’t be able to bridge again.

Sephiroth had resolved to think more on the matter, but put it to the side for the moment. Cloud had progressed significantly since he was first given the mentoring assignment. He was completely comfortable with conversation between himself, Zack, and Sephiroth and at ease in public. They would begin introducing him to other SOLDIERs soon—it was the last step in his socializing, and then Zack would be out of things to teach him.

Similarly, Cloud’s combat abilities were lightyears away from where he had first started. Zack had been brought into their training sessions every other day, and Cloud was beginning to win their spars (Zack refused to admit that it stung his ego for someone so new to the blade to beat him; Cloud’s enhancements were the only thing that spared his pride). Sephiroth had begun to spar with Cloud himself, though he went easy on him. He pulled his blows, only ever tapping Cloud with his blade or disarming him. Cloud was fully aware that he wasn’t fighting at the extent of his ability, and it quickly began to frustrate him. He began asking Zack to spar with him outside the training sessions with Sephiroth, seeking an extra edge, almost desperate to be on Sephiroth’s level.

Usually, once Sephiroth had successfully disarmed him, it was the end of the spar. Cloud would go pick up his sword from wherever it landed, return to standing across from Sephiroth, take a few breaths, and they would begin again. This time, his frustration got the better of him. As Sephiroth twisted his blade from his hand, the flat of his blade knocked into Cloud’s ribs. He was going to fall on his ass one way or another, a consequence he was very familiar with but hated. Without thinking, he snatched the front of Sephiroth’s jacket and dragged the man down with him.

They landed hard, both getting the breath knocked out of them, landing in a tangle of limbs, Sephiroth having dropped his sword on the way down to catch himself. He landed propped on his elbows, knees framing Cloud’s hips, the blond’s hand still clutching his coat. Cloud groaned, trying to catch his breath and wincing from where his head had smacked the floor. For a long moment, they made eye contact. Neither realized they were barely breathing in the hush of the room. As the instance stretched, Sephiroth finally gathered enough of his wits to begin to move away. He didn’t expect Cloud’s hand on his jacket to hold him firmly in place.

“Cloud,” Sephiroth uttered, shifting his weight to free one arm, moving to pull the blond’s hand from his front. His hand closed over Cloud’s, but he refused to let go of his coat; if anything, his grip tightened. Sephiroth’s brow furrowed.

“Cloud?” he asked, looking from their hands to the boy beneath him. He watched as green eyes flicked back up to his gaze from where they had been settled on his lips.

“Yes?” It was barely a breath, but Sephiroth could feel it ghosting against his own mouth.

“Let go,” he said, mimicking Cloud’s low tone unintentionally. “We ought to start again.”

“No,” he insisted.

“… no?”

“No.”

Sephiroth opened his mouth to ask what was wrong—if he was tired, if he had gotten hurt in the fall. He didn’t expect Cloud to reach up, tangle one hand in his hair, and pull him down for a kiss. His eyes were wide with surprise, but in spite of himself, in spite of all the promises he had made, they fluttered shut. The moment stretched, their lips pressed simply together until both had to pull back and take a deep breath. They looked at each other, glances flickering between eyes and lips, until Cloud seemed to realize what he had done and paled. He immediately let Sephiroth go, pulling his hands away to hold them up innocently.

“I’m _so_ sorry, I—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish.

Sephiroth used his free hand to take gentle hold of Cloud’s chin, angling it just right to reconvene their kiss. It was Cloud’s chance to stare in surprise until he melted helplessly, leaning up to press back against Sephiroth’s lips. The kiss deepened, though neither was entirely sure who initiated it. Cloud’s hands ended up buried in Sephiroth’s hair, holding him close. Sephiroth’s hand slid up to cup Cloud’s cheek tenderly. They pulled away once for breath, staring back at each other with heated glances, before they dived back in, meeting in the middle. They lost track of how long they spent that way, only sure that when they pulled away, both did so with mussed hair and kiss-swollen lips.

As they caught their breath, it slowly dawned on them what happened. Cloud turned shy, a pink blush rising high on his cheeks. Sephiroth paled, stomach sinking. He pulled back, sitting back on his heels. Cloud propped himself up on his elbows to watch him with confusion.

“I’m sorry,” Sephiroth said immediately. “I shouldn’t have—”

This wasn’t the reaction Cloud had been hoping for. The blush on his face grew to red.

“No, I should be the one apologizing,” he said, voice hushed, eyes adamantly avoiding Sephiroth’s. “I was the one who kissed you, I—you didn’t have to do that, if you didn’t want to.”

It took the prolonged silence to force Cloud to look up. When he did, he found that Sephiroth was looking at him with heat, making his stomach curl in a different way entirely.

“I never said I didn’t want to,” he corrected, voice low, almost husky in its quiet. Cloud’s brow furrowed.

“Then…?”

Sephiroth sighed.

“I don’t want you to get into trouble with the company because I couldn’t restrain myself.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to restrain yourself.”

Sephiroth couldn’t help the small smile that flickered onto his face.

“I still wouldn’t want to cause trouble for you,” he insisted.

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind risking some trouble,” Cloud countered.

The blond would be the death of him. 

Sephiroth climbed to his feet and held out a hand to help Cloud up.

“Either way, this was irresponsible. Anyone could have been observing us,” he said. Both glanced toward the one way window.

When Cloud answered, his voice was low, and he was glancing up at Sephiroth from beneath his lashes.

“Would that make it less irresponsible in private?”

He was _definitely_ going to be the death of him.

Sephiroth couldn’t help but chuckle. He gathered the swords they had been practicing with and returned them to the weapons rack.

“We have to meet Zack for dinner in fifteen minutes anyway,” Sephiroth said.

“That’s not an answer.”

Sephiroth smirked.

“I suppose it isn’t,” he admitted.

“What about after dinner?” Cloud pressed.

“When you’ll fall asleep within half an hour?” Sephiroth countered.

“I can stay up if I have enough motivation.”

The smirk grew when he answered, “Oh, is that all it takes? Perhaps we should have kissed sooner, if it’s the secret to keep you from passing out at the first opportunity.”

Cloud pouted at him in response. Sephiroth shook his head and, putting one hand on Cloud’s shoulder, began to steer him from the training room.

“We’ll see what happens after dinner,” he conceded, though he refused to meet Cloud’s eye.

It was a shame. He missed the endearing look of triumphant excitement that replaced the pout, and it was an expression he had long since grown fond of.


	16. Chapter 16

It was Shinra policy that every SOLDIER was given a mako injection each month. Sephiroth had needed to haggle with the board to get Cloud out of it—he knew all too well that bringing him back into the labs and giving him a shot would go over very, very poorly. He was spared by virtue of not being in the program proper yet and already needing to adjust to the enhancements he was given in the labs. It wasn’t a permanent solution (he doubted it would even last until the end of the mentoring assignment), but it bought them some time.

It didn’t spare Zack or Sephiroth, but both were accustomed to the routine. They didn’t need to consult each other to agree not to bring Cloud into it. They picked each other up from their injections and remained for the few hours after to make sure everything went smoothly. They couldn’t keep Cloud away from that aftermath, but they did as much as they could to spare him. As it was, the blond grew exceptionally anxious each time one of them returned from the labs and insisted on doing everything he could to help. The post-injection dizziness, nausea, and exhaustion was nothing new, and though they told him as much, Cloud still remained glued to their sides until he was absolutely certain they were back to normal.

When routine changed, Sephiroth knew immediately it would go over poorly.

“What is that?” Sephiroth asked. He had Hojo’s wrist firmly locked in his grip. The professor had already administered his mako injection and produced a secondary syringe full of something red with a mako glow.

“Something new,” the doctor said, frowning at Sephiroth’s grip.

“Our standing agreement is that you will not introduce anything new without briefing me on what it is and its probable effects,” Sephiroth said, tone waspish, gaze hard.

“The President authorized an exception,” Hojo insisted.

“I am not your guinea pig,” Sephiroth snapped. “I do not consent to this.”

“Should we get the President on the phone?” Hojo snapped back, his usually thin patience wearing out. “There’s nothing for you to worry about either way.”

“If this is safe, why do you refuse to brief me?” He knew that he would have to cave. If Hojo had the President’s permission, as much as he hated it, there was nothing he could do about it. That didn’t mean he had to accept it lying down.

“Placebo effect,” he explained. “If I brief you, your expectations will impact the effects. It is necessary that we gain unbiased data. Now, if you please.” Hojo twisted his wrist within Sephiroth’s grip.

He didn’t buy it for a second. Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that his hands were tied. With a glare that could freeze fire, Sephiroth released Hojo’s wrist.

The injection was administered swiftly and he was promptly discharged. As he left the department, Zack raised an eyebrow at him. He shook his head and left the department, refusing to get into the matter with prying ears.

“What was the delay for?” Zack asked when they were in the hall. He had one hand around Sephiroth’s bicep, ready to steady him when the dizziness set in.

“He gave me something new, but wouldn’t elaborate on it,” Sephiroth admitted, tone acidic and showing exactly how he felt on the matter. “He had clearance from the President.”

Zack swore under his breath.

Sephiroth repeated it in agreement.

They managed to get into the elevator before any symptoms settled in. They had risen four floors before the expected dizziness began. Another two before, unexpectedly, his vision began to swim. He shifted on his feet a few times before toppling, leaning heavily against the side of the elevator. He could hear Zack’s concerned questioning, but it sounded far away, like he was listening underwater. He pressed a hand to his forehead, the other gripping the handrail hard enough to dent. He slumped backward, his back hitting the glass wall of the elevator.

Zack still sounded distant, but a swarm of voices began to ring in his ear. They were nothing but whispers, indistinct but much closer than Zack sounded. When he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) everything had a mako-green-tint to it. The voices grew sweet and tender, soothing, but something sounded off to them. There was a mocking edge, a smug superiority that he could hear but couldn’t place.

He could barely tell what happened when Zack pried his hand from the rail, looped an arm around his shoulders, and began to pull him, lurching dangerously, from the elevator. He could feel the movement, rolling and staggering, but he couldn’t tell what happened. Even when Zack pulled him to a halt, he swayed dangerously. Unwilling to pull a hand from Sephiroth, Zack kicked at the general’s apartment door.

As they grew closer to the door, the voices rose in a crescendo. The soothing whispers rose to a yell, words layering over each other to the point of incoherence. Something in his chest pulled and pulled hard. He was filled with a longing, a desperation, for what, he didn’t know. Only that whatever he needed, he needed it badly. He felt like a man who had spent far too long in the desert heat, finally glimpsing an oasis. That frantic want only grew, pulling a low whine from his throat that completely startled Zack; the man had never heard anything remotely like that sound from his friend before. The need was a burning itch that he didn’t know how to relieve, and it was slowly driving him mad.

Cloud yanked the door open, having stumbled more than once in his haste to get there. Even with Zack juggling Sephiroth, he had never needed the door to be opened for him before. Something was wrong, and the closer he got to the door, the more certain he grew that whatever it was, it was severe. He looked Sephiroth over, finding him pale, eyes rolling and head lolling on his shoulders. He was slumped, only kept upright by virtue of Zack’s aid. The heel of his hand was pressed to his temple, trying to relieve something, but failing.

Cloud reached out immediately to help Zack, and the second his hands touched Sephiroth, the man pulled in a sharp gasp, like a drowning man finally reaching air. Zack looked between the two in alarm, but Cloud couldn’t tear his eyes from Sephiroth. The worry in his stomach was still there, the concerned thoughts in his head growing more frantic at that strange gasp, but something in him settled once the connection was made. Some part of him knew it would all be alright now, despite the fact that his mind argued, pointing out again and again that he had no idea what was wrong with Sephiroth or what he could do to help.

The screaming voices in Sephiroth’s head settled. The world was still tinted mako-green, but everything stopped spinning. He felt grounded, finally secure. He could feel something like worry in his gut, though it felt second-hand, especially in the wake of the sudden peace that filled him. He knew he was finally at his apartment, but he’d never felt a homecoming like this before. Without thinking, moving on blind instinct, he reached out and fisted his hands in the front of Cloud’s shirt, bowing his head to press it against the blond’s shoulder. There was a tremble that spread through him, but it was one of relief. He could finally breathe again.

Cloud steadied him with hands around his upper arms. He looked to Zack with concern and confusion in his eyes; the lieutenant matched his look and shrugged.

“Come on, Sephiroth,” Cloud said quietly, gently. He backed up a few steps, Sephiroth following him blindly, utterly compliant. He led the general to a couch, pulling them apart and guiding him to sitting. He almost squawked in alarm as Sephiroth immediately grabbed him, pulling him into his lap, arms enveloping him, nose pressed to his hair.

“What the hell happened?” Cloud asked Zack in a whisper, glancing over his shoulder at Sephiroth. Despite the very, very strange behavior, the man seemed to have settled. Cloud pressed a hand to Sephiroth’s forearm where it was wrapped around his waist, thumb passing over it soothingly. Zack was well aware of their feelings for each other, but he had never seen such open affection from either, least of all initiated by Sephiroth. It made him more concerned; just how out of it _was_ he?

“Hojo gave him something new but wouldn’t say what it was,” Zack explained, matching the blond’s hush. They weren’t sure if Sephiroth couldn’t hear them or was just ignoring them, but it still felt uncomfortable to discuss him as if he wasn’t there.

Cloud’s face grew fiery and furious.

“I swear, if I get my hands on him—”

“He had the President’s permission, Cloud,” Zack said gently. “There’s nothing we can do except try and help him get through it.”

Cloud swore quietly.

Despite the distant concern Sephiroth felt, he had never felt so at peace. The negative effects of the mako were so far away that they might as well have been nonexistent. His breath was slow and even, his posture utterly relaxed. Everything felt right.

“Was he like this before?” Cloud asked, his concern fading into confusion. Sephiroth _seemed_ better than he usually did after injections now that they had him safely on the couch. Zack was watching with matching bewilderment.

“Not at all,” he said. “It was like he was overwhelmed and in pain and really out of it. Maybe being back home settled him.”

“It’s not like the tower isn’t familiar enough to him, I don’t see why being in the apartment itself would change anything,” Cloud said, hesitant.

“Maybe he just feels safer in private?” Zack suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly, Cloud, this one’s beyond me.”

The blond pursed his lips for a few seconds before sighing.

“Let’s get him into bed, he can sleep off the rest of it. We can try to figure out what happened in the morning.”

Cloud began gently prying at Sephiroth’s arms, but the man seemed unwilling to let him go. He began pushing harder, but his grip only tightened. He sighed again and held out his hands.

“A little help?”

Zack popped to his feet and, with a huge tug, dragged Cloud to standing. Sephiroth followed close behind, his hold on the blond loosening, but never failing. Cloud scratched at his head; he had no clue why Sephiroth wouldn’t let him go. When he looked back at Zack, the man had his eyebrows raised, but just shrugged in response.

He admittedly had a hard time not laughing as Cloud shuffled them into the bedroom. He tried again to get Sephiroth to let him go so he could help him into bed, but he didn’t have any more luck that time than he had the first. Seeing only one solution, Zack pushed Cloud. He yelped, toppling back into bed, Sephiroth _still_ not letting him go. Zack couldn’t help but grin as the blond spluttered, trying to pull himself free. Sephiroth turned onto his side, spooned up against Cloud, and settled, any protests utterly ignored.

“Good night!” Zack said with a laugh, heading out of the room. He laughed harder when Cloud flicked him a rude gesture, one that he had been the one to introduce him to.

Zack left the apartment, still not entirely at ease. Sephiroth’s behavior was strange, very strange, but it seemed like Cloud helped; he chalked it up to Sephiroth being out of it enough to finally stop restraining his affection. They could figure it out in the morning, once everything had settled.

Cloud shifted in the circle of Sephiroth’s arms. He was by no means unhappy with their position, but he felt like he was taking advantage of Sephiroth’s condition, despite the fact that it was the general who refused to let him go. It took some time for him to convince himself that if this was what Sephiroth needed and wanted, then he wouldn’t protest. He settled quicker than he expected and drifted off into a comfortable sleep even faster. He had never felt so safe, so wanted in his life. He regretted the cause but, in spite of himself, thoroughly enjoyed the situation. The matter could be discussed in the morning, plans developed for the next time it happened. For now, it seemed like the best way to help Sephiroth was just to stay put, and of all the ways he could have helped, he minded this the least.

 

Hojo finished making his final notations. He regretted that he couldn’t keep Sephiroth overnight for observation, but this would garner this least amount of suspicion. In truth, it might even be better this way. At the first dose, there would either be a dramatic effect or a small one which would grow over time. He couldn’t be sure of which until the experiment progressed. However, he was relatively certain that being around Specimen C would either increase the effects or prolong them, either of which would be a benefit. He, admittedly, only had a few vague hypotheses as to how the first introduction of the C cells would go, but he was certain it would serve his goals well regardless. The more entwined the two were, the better.


	17. Chapter 17

When Sephiroth woke, it was because he was too warm. Not the sweaty, summer heat, kick-off-all-your-blankets kind of warm. It was the next to a fire side in winter warm, where the heat surrounded him and filtered deep into muscles, relaxing them in a way he seldom experienced. It took him longer than he was proud of to realize why.

His legs were tangled in a matching set, his arms holding someone close. His forehead was pressed against someone’s collarbone, a soothing hand passing gentle fingers through his hair. He blinked blearily and pulled away, his brow furrowed in confusion. He never slept with anyone else in his bed. He looked up, lost.

Cloud smiled down at him, the expression soft and tender. He smoothed the hair from Sephiroth’s face.

“Good morning,” he said, voice hushed in the still silence of the apartment.

“Good… morning?” Sephiroth couldn’t decide if he was reciprocating the greeting or asking for clarification. He found he didn’t much mind either way, because it made Cloud give that bell-like laugh of his.

Sephiroth propped himself up on one elbow, looking around the room in bewilderment, as if his furniture would have answers for him. Sunlight was streaming in through the window—probably another cause of that pleasant warmth he’d woken to. But it was far too bright for the tinny early-morning light he usually woke to. He leaned to look at the alarm clock behind Cloud.

He immediately began to scramble to his feet.

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept in until _1000_.

Cloud sat upright and snatched his wrist, just barely keeping his laughter behind his lips.

“Don’t worry,” Cloud said. When Sephiroth turned back to look at him, Cloud pressed the general’s PHS into his palm. “I called around for you this morning. You have the day to yourself.”

Sephiroth’s brow pinched in confusion.

“You don’t have the clearance to do that.”

“No,” Cloud agreed. “But I told your secretary to talk to the _professor_ ,” that word would never be uttered without acid, “for proof that you wouldn’t be feeling well. She got back to me and told me your day was cleared.”

Sephiroth hesitated at the reminder of the labs. The night before began filtering back to him as scraps, jumbled and out of order. He set the PHS on the nightstand and pressed a hand to his temple.

Cloud reached out to touch his wrist lightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I… yes,” Sephiroth confirmed, though he didn’t sound very sure of himself.

“Do you remember last night at all? You were pretty out of it,” Cloud said, sounding just as hesitant.

“Pieces,” Sephiroth muttered. “I remember… voices, feeling very far away from everything, and overwhelmed. At some point it all went quiet, though. It was so peaceful, I don’t know when I drifted off into sleep.”

Cloud looked concerned. He knew that there were certain illnesses that made a person hear voices, but Sephiroth never showed signs of that until now. It put him on edge; he could only think of one other cause of voices in someone’s head. He knew that quiet peace, the deep comfort and solace and belonging that went with those voices.

He told himself firmly that there had to be another cause. Jenova was long gone, and besides, if it was her, the voices would have stayed. If asked, he would adamantly deny the flicker of jealousy that passed through him at the thought that Jenova might have returned and come to Sephiroth instead of him.

He would never admit to it, but some part of him would always remain broken in her absence. He knew better, now, than to trust her, that she had done nothing but twist him and fill his head with lies. But he would never forget the safety, the peace, the way he fit in with Jenova in a way he didn’t fit with the people around him. He would never forget the years with no one but her for company, not _needing_ anyone but her. She had meant the world to him and they loved each other—or at least, that was what he thought at the time. No matter how often he reminded himself that Jenova wasn’t to be trusted, that she was bad for him, he would always miss her.

When he snapped out of his daze, he saw Sephiroth watching him sharply, eyes too keen to have missed his pause.

“What is it?” he asked, and it wasn’t his friendly tone, the warm one he used when they were alone together, or even the flat one he used in public speaking. This was the sharp whip-crack of The General, demanding answers.

Cloud looked away.

“It’s nothi—”

“Cloud,” he reprimanded.

“Really, it’s—”

“Do not insult my intelligence. If you know something, share it.”

Cloud blew out a hard breath, turning his eyes from the window to his lap.

“I’m not even sure, okay? I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth.”

“I’d prefer to know your theories than to remain ignorant.”

Cloud glanced up at him, and immediately regretted it. There was the determination that went with his commanding tone, that he had expected. He hadn’t thought he’d see the backlight of worry, of fear lingering.

“It just—well, it sounds kind of like Moth—Jenova,” Cloud said, cursing himself inwardly. He had sworn he’d stop referring to her as his mother. If only he was able to live up to that promise.

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his slip in name or the idea as a whole.

“How so?”

“The voices, the peace, the belonging,” he said. He couldn’t maintain eye contact while on this subject. His time with Jenova came with deep shame for Cloud. If he could, he would forget it all. Drudging up old memories like this was something he did everything in his power to avoid.

“I see,” Sephiroth said, voice quiet and contemplative. “How did we…?” He gestured between the two of them in bed.

He was all too relieved at the change of topic. That didn’t stop the blush from spreading on his cheeks or the shy smile on his lips.

“Well, you, uhm,” Cloud started, tried, hesitated. “As soon as I touched you to help Zack carry you, you latched on and wouldn’t let go. I thought sleeping off whatever happened would probably help, and you wouldn’t let go, so… sorry, I probably should have left as soon as I woke up.”

Sephiroth knew there was something there, a piece to the puzzle, but that blush and smile were too endearing, his heart warming. He leaned back on one hand, the other rising to cup Cloud’s cheek.

“Who knew that was all it took to get you into bed with me,” he purred, lips brushing Cloud’s. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. His eyes flicked down, watching that blush spread, a smirk passing over his lips.

“I—we _didn’t_ , I wouldn’t—”

Sephiroth let out a low laugh that rumbled in his chest. He ran his fingers over Cloud’s cheek, slipping them under his jaw to tilt his face up.

“I know,” he uttered. He pressed his lips to Cloud’s, both sets of green eyes fluttering shut. It was supposed to be a brief moment, but it stretched and stretched and stretched. Cloud was very, very new to this sort of physical intimacy, but he had good instincts, and learned quickly. While Sephiroth, admittedly, did not have a wealth of experience himself, it was enough to smooth out the edges of their exchanges. When Sephiroth finally ran out of breath and had to pull away, he was half on top of Cloud, who he had been lowered back onto the bed. He could feel Cloud panting, his breath ghosting between them, small hands buried in his hair, holding him close. He pulled back just enough to look Cloud over, that smug smirk returning. Cloud’s clothes were askew, his hair mussed, that rosy blush high across his cheeks, mouth just barely parted for him to attempt to catch his breath. He made quite a sight.

Sephiroth didn’t realize the way his eyes went dark with lust, the way his slid over to straddle Cloud completely, hands running down the blond’s front.

They were supposed to be being serious, trying to ferret out the truth of what had happened last night. There were worries to be gone over, legitimate concerns that really shouldn’t be waiting. Both would be more comfortable knowing more about exactly what Sephiroth had been injected with.

But this was too pleasant a respite. The worrying details, the whole of the dangerous matter of the experiment, was easily pushed aside. After the night before, though Sephiroth had no conscious awareness of it, some part of him felt safer with Cloud. They had long since come to trust each other, but it had been deepened somehow. Those usual fears of making some sort of mistake as a result of his abysmal social skills, of embarrassing himself, of hurting Cloud without intending to or knowing it had all melted away. The warmth that had pulled him from sleep seemed to cocoon them. All they could think of was each other, the rest slipping from mind entirely.

Sephiroth leaned down and Cloud met him in the middle, each determined to steal the breath from the other. He was propped up on one elbow, his free hand wandering, exploring. When his hand slipped down and back up, pushing Cloud’s shirt up and out of the way, it earned a helpless little whine from the blond that only grew when Sephiroth began to pay attention to his nipples. When they pulled away for breath, Sephiroth immediately tugged on Cloud’s half-removed shirt, the younger immediately responding by leaning up and holding up his arms, the shirt tossed somewhere to the side, neither entirely sure (or cared) where it landed.

He leaned down, mouthing at the side of Cloud’s neck, his chin quickly tipping back to allow him more room. Cloud swore breathlessly, whether it was from the attention or the way he was fumbling with Sephiroth’s jacket which seemed to refuse to budge. It earned him a breathy laugh in his ear, which Sephiroth bit at lightly before pulling away. He sat upright and began peeling off his jacket without pretense, and though it was unceremonious, he could watch the way Cloud’s eyes darkened, slit pupils dilating. His pants grew that much tighter. He couldn’t get the leather cross-straps off his chest quick enough.

Cloud propped himself up on his elbows, Sephiroth leaning forward and cupping his face between his hands, kissing him hard, needy. Cloud shifted his weight to one arm, the other hand fisting in Sephiroth’s hair, pulling just enough to earn him a low groan. He leaned back down, threading his other hand into silver, pulling Sephiroth down with him. He shifted, sliding one knee between Cloud’s legs and pressing upward; the blond pulled away with a high moan, rocking his hips forward. Sephiroth watched intently; his memory was near infallible, but he put special attention into memorizing the look on Cloud’s face, the way his voice sounded. He leaned back in, intently sucking a high mark onto Cloud’s neck where throat met jaw. It was high enough that the SOLDIER turtleneck wouldn’t cover it. He should have cared if someone saw it. True, Cloud was only usually around himself and Zack, and the latter’s well-meaning teasing could be easily shrugged off. But with the blond’s mako level, it would fade quickly. Regardless, Sephiroth didn’t much care who saw. Something in him was deeply satisfied at the thought of the bruise, that he was marking Cloud as his own, even if it wouldn’t last so much as an hour. From the way Cloud sounded as he worked the bruise, he wasn’t anywhere close to against the idea. All he did was hug him closer, one leg coming up to hook around his hips.

When Sephiroth’s PHS went off, it was accompanied by two groans of frustration.

He barely took a moment to try and steady his breathing before he answered the call, voice hard and barely containing his irritation.

“Sephiroth speaking.”

His hand came up to cup Cloud’s face, thumb brushing over his swollen lips.

“Se—you alright? You sound funny.”

“What do you want, Zack?” he said, voice still keeping that edge, despite his gentle touch to Cloud’s face. As he spoke, the blond took his hand gently in his own, pressing careful kisses to his palm without breaking eye contact.

“To make sure you’re ok,” Zack said, as if it should be obvious. Cloud, whose hearing was sensitive enough to make out the conversation, sighed. “You were in pretty bad shape last night and your secretary says you’re out for the day.”

“I feel much better now,” Sephiroth clarified. As they went, his tone softened. The concern in Zack’s tone did much to soothe his frustration at being interrupted.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it,” Zack said with obvious relief. “You two wanna do lunch? We ought to try and see if we can figure out what happened.”

Sephiroth opened his mouth, but it was Cloud who swore quietly. Both grew a guilty look; they should have been spending their time doing _that_. They had gotten beyond side-tracked.

“We’ll be by shortly to pick you up,” Sephiroth said, sliding off from on top of Cloud, who cursed again as he shifted to sitting upright.

“See you then,” Zack answered. Sephiroth hung up without his own goodbye. Both climbed to their feet, hesitating as they came face to face at the foot of the bed.

Sephiroth closed the space between them, one hand on Cloud’s cheek, the blond turning into his touch. His hand slid downward, fingers pressing at the red mark blooming on his neck.

“I think Zack might figure out why you sounded funny,” Cloud said, acknowledging the gesture. He still sounded breathless.

“That sounds like Zack’s problem,” he said without shame or remorse.

“We’re never going to hear the end of it,” Cloud cautioned. Sephiroth shrugged lightly.

“Worth it.”

Cloud smiled in response, and Sephiroth ran his hand back up, tilting Cloud’s face up with two fingers so that he could kiss him again, soundly but brief.

“Can we reconvene this later?” Sephiroth whispered against Cloud’s lips. A mischievous smile answered him.

“Just you try and stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little longer! Life happened, and will probably keep happening for a bit here, so updates (might not but probably) will be slowing down some. I'll still be working at it but it'll likely be a bit before daily updates again, sorry!


	18. Chapter 18

When they arrived at the diner for lunch, Zack froze on sight, before immediately bursting into laughter that was so loud, many turned in their seats to look at him. Cloud, for his part, had the decency to blush and kicked Zack under the table as soon as he sat down, tugging his collar up as high as it would go (it still wasn’t high enough to cover the hickey). Sephiroth raised a cool eyebrow but ignored the laughter altogether. Zack didn’t know why he was surprised to find out his friend was so shameless.

“Well, well,” Zack said, leaning forward, propping his chin in one hand. “Maybe the answer for last night isn’t so mysterious after all.”

“What makes you say that?” Cloud asked, tone all innocent curiosity, sincerely thinking that Zack had a breakthrough.

“He calmed down as soon as he got back to his… partner? Boyfriend? Friend with benefits? _Lover?_ ”

Cloud turned as red as the leather booths; Zack crowed another laugh, earning a sharper kick under the table.

“Zack,” Sephiroth said, not looking up from his menu. “Don’t terrorize him.”

“But he’s so cute when his face looks like it’ll catch fire!” Zack leaned across the table to pinch Cloud’s cheek, who immediately swatted it away with a scowl. The tips of his ears even started to turn red.

“ _Zack_ ,” Cloud said in what was undeniably a whine.

“Alright, alright,” Zack conceded. “You’re off the hook. For now.”

Cloud groaned and rolled his eyes, but was willing to take his victories as they came.

“Teasing aside, it could have something to do with it,” Zack said. “You got back to your home with someone you feel safe around, and you were clearly out of it; maybe you just clung to the first safe thing you saw.”

“After Wutai, we both know I feel safe with you,” Sephiroth said in that offhand manner of his, stating a fact more than paying a compliment or opening up his feelings.

Zack leaned back and shrugged.

“Maybe you feel safer with Cloud,” he countered.

“But if it’s not that, what is it?” Cloud said, finally chipping into the conversation.

“Perhaps it had worn off enough by the time I got to the apartment?” Sephiroth said.

Zack and Cloud both shook their heads.

“No way, you were still completely out of it,” Zack disagreed. “It has to be something about it being Cloud you wanted to be around.”

For all his blushing, Cloud was able to turn frost-white very, very fast.

“We are the most enhanced humans to date. A reaction to the high levels of mako?” Sephiroth offered.

Zack rubbed the back of his head. Neither had yet noticed Cloud’s paleness or the way he was staring at his hands resting in his lap.

“I don’t know,” Zack said. “I didn’t think your mako levels were _that_ far off from other Firsts, but I could be wrong.”

“The Science Department has never been exactly upfront with the details of our enhancements,” Sephiroth said.

The three looked up when their waitress came to take their orders. It wasn’t until Zack did a double-take that he noticed Cloud’s paleness.

“Cloud?” he asked. “What’s up? You okay?”

Sephiroth turned to look at him immediately, looking the blond over, from his paleness to his lowered eyes to his shaking fingertips.

“You put something together,” Sephiroth said, not an accusation or a question, but a simple statement. “What is it?”

Cloud glanced between the two nervously.

“There’s really only one thing we have in common that no one else does,” he said. He waved his hand by his eyes.

“We never received confirmation on why our eyes are the way they are,” Sephiroth said, a small frown tracing his lips. Cloud let out a huff of breath.

“You really don’t think it’s tied to the only other thing we have in common?” Cloud said, hesitance still clear in his voice.

“What is it?” Zack chimed in. “Ridiculous hair?”

It lightened the mood enough for Cloud to breathe out what (just barely) passed as a laugh, though the amusement passed quickly. He turned and looked outside the diner window to the bustling streets of Midgar. He couldn’t look at them and talk about this at the same time.

“Mothe— _Jenova_ always insisted you were special,” Cloud said slowly. “That you were like _us_.” As Cloud spoke, his stomach tumbled sickly. “What if they found her? They might have, I left most of her in the reactor. What if they got her—I don’t know, her blood or something, gave it to you?”

An eerie quiet passed over the table, Zack looking between his friends, Sephiroth looking at Cloud with a mix of horror and concern. The waitress dropped off their orders, and Zack gave her their thanks; the other two refused to acknowledge what was happening.

“Do you really think that’s the case?” Sephiroth asked.

“I… I don’t know. I told you your symptoms sounded like her.” Cloud offered a little shrug, and his friends could watch him distancing himself mentally and emotionally from the problem. An out of place calm fell over him as his mind detached from the situation for its own safety. Cloud finally looked back and added, “She wasn’t there, so you latched onto the only substitute.”

Silence returned to the table, but this time it lingered. Cloud fiddled with his food but ate very little, Sephiroth ate mechanically (as only a soldier, used to eating what he could when he could, was able to), and Zack watched the two while eating his own meal.

“Well,” he said around a mouthful of fries. “We don’t know that for sure.”

“Do you really see another option, Zack?” Cloud said. He was still distant and detached; it was beginning to worry Zack.

“No, but we might not have all the information,” he countered. “Whatever it was passed pretty quick, and neither of you are hearing anything you shouldn’t. There’s no hint that she’s coming back.”

Zack couldn’t know, but the reminder stung. Once abandoned, always abandoned. Cloud cursed his lingering attachment to Jenova as well as that small part of his mind that hadn’t detached itself completely.

“Zack’s right,” Sephiroth declared, finally coming to a decision and returning to speaking with his usual authority. “We don’t have all the pieces. There’s no sense working ourselves into knots over ‘what if’s. We try to find out more and deal with it as it comes.”

The three agreed, though waiting and seeing didn’t sit well with any of them. Zack knew he should be pressing Cloud to be more social, as any outing was a time to practice, but he seemed to have become completely comfortable with being in public. Not to mention that he seemed to need a moment to himself.

Sephiroth, meanwhile, was too familiar with that dissociative state to press the matter. It had been one of the only ways to cope with the labs. The body was present and running on autopilot, the mind watching from a safe distance. He also knew just how sensitive a subject Jenova was for Cloud. He was grateful that Cloud had offered his guess at an explanation despite the mental cost and would respect that by giving him as much space as he needed for as long as he needed it.

Once he saw that Zack was finished, Sephiroth reached out and took hold of the hand Cloud was using to pick at his food. The blond looked up, though the distance remained.

“Why don’t we go train? We can see if Zack can keep up with you,” Sephiroth offered. He knew that the physical exercise was a good way to ground Cloud, bringing him back to the present. They would just start off with something simple, light weights or jogging, to be sure that mental distance was gone; it wouldn’t be safe to spar in that state.

“In the gym or in sparring?” Cloud asked.

Zack protested, “Hey!” in the background, but both ignored him.

“Both,” Sephiroth said.

He gestured with his head for Zack to exit the booth and pulled Cloud along behind him as he exited himself, though he let go of the blond’s hand once they were standing. They last thing they needed were rumors.

The walk back to Shinra Tower and their warm-up was filled entirely with smack-talk, threats, and promises to embarrass the other. Though Sephiroth didn’t join in, he was caught smirking more than once at the sniping. He kept a careful eye on Cloud, fully aware that his heart wasn’t in the teasing, that he was still separated from the present. But Zack pulling him into a headlock, ruffling his hair, challenging him to a squat competition, all served to help him ground. Sephiroth coached them from his spot leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. He called out exercises and instructions as soon as the pair finished what they were doing. More than once, Zack groaned that it was unfair that Sephiroth wasn’t working out with them. He was ignored; Sephiroth was too focused on Cloud. It took a good while for Zack to notice that the strangeness in Cloud’s behavior remained, but once he did, he laid off nagging Sephiroth.

By the time Sephiroth decided to give them a break, both were panting and sweaty. Zack flopped immediately to the floor, one arm tossed over his eyes. Cloud sat on the weight-lifting benches and snatched up a water bottle that was placed underneath. As they rested, Zack went on a bitter diatribe about overly-enhanced bullies; there was a distinct difference in the level of tiredness between Zack and Cloud. Zack was overworked enough that his abs ached and lungs still burned  from breathing as he lie on the floor, and he was utterly drenched in sweat. There was only a thin film of sweat over Cloud, and he caught his breath again quickly. Sephiroth rolled his eyes at Zack’s antics, but Cloud was watching their friend with a smile. The workout had, admittedly, been extremely intense, but it did its job; Cloud had recovered from their discussion of Jenova completely.

“I’m _not_ sparring today,” Zack griped. “Not either of you. Not once. In fact, you’re gonna have to roll me out of here, I don’t think I can move.”

“Enough dramatics,” Sephiroth said, moving to Zack and offering him a hand up. Zack peeked up from under his arm and took his hand, groaning as he was hauled to his feet. Cloud and Sephiroth both knew Zack had a tendency toward drama to earn a laugh, but when he walked to the far side of the room to a chair meant for watching spars, his legs were shaking, and he collapsed into the chair as soon as he could.

“I don’t see how it’s fair that you’re starting fresh and I just came out of boot camp,” Cloud protested, though he did grab his swords from the side of the room; he was still new to duel wielding, but it came so easily to him, the speed and maneuverability it afforded him suiting him well.

“You will be called for missions when you’re exhausted, be it from back-to-back assignments, early morning calls that steal your sleep, extremely long missions, or just finishing training, like right now. You won’t start all your battles fresh, but you will come across many who _are_ just entering the fight.”

Cloud huffed, his familiar pout forming.

“But none of them will be _you_.”

“No, but there are many challenging creatures in the wild.”

Cloud rolled his eyes.

“But they’re not _you_.”

Sephiroth paused, then shrugged. It was a fair point.

“Best to prepare for the worst case scenario,” he countered, drawing Masamune and slipping into a ready stance. Cloud was still pouting, but he followed suit.

Up until this point, Zack had been Cloud’s sparring partner in every training session he was present for. He was aware that Cloud and Sephiroth practiced against one another, but it was another thing to see it. He didn’t realize it, but he froze, water bottle halfway to his lips as they began.

Gods, but they were _fast_.

Even enhanced as he was, he was having a hard time following the battle. He could hear the sharp ringing of their blades crashing together, caught sprays of sparks as steel scraped against steel. He saw a few punches and elbows and kicks sprinkled into the mix, little dips under each other’s guards to catch the other off balance. There was more than once when one was pushed back and they both came forward to meet fast enough that the crash occurred mid-air. Zack thought it was a trick of the eye, but no, it happened again, and again, and gods, he knew Cloud had received a lot of training since, but _this_ was the person he had once been assigned to guard? Sephiroth actually believed he had a prayer of standing in his way if he really wanted to leave? Cloud would have passed him before he so much as blinked, much less raised his blade.

While a few of those brief melee attacks landed, no blade nicked flesh, not so much as a standard-spar warning tap. Zack was sure that such intensity couldn’t hold, that they would have to pull away soon, but they just kept going, and going, and going. Zack had never seen a spar so long, and one at this pace? It was unheard of.

He would never admit to it, but somewhere deep in his gut, he was intimidated. He knew he didn’t have a prayer against either, and it sparked a primal fear in him, despite knowing he was perfectly safe among them.

When the fight ended, it was abrupt. They simply froze, Masamune just barely tapping Cloud’s side. The blond let out a huff of frustration, but slipped from a fighting stance.

“I still think starting fresh was cheating,” Cloud protested.

“It was a learning experience.”

“You just wanted an easy win.”

Sephiroth just shrugged.

Zack looked between the two, some of that shock still on his face. _Easy win?_ That brutal pace, the simple duration of the fight—it was unbelievable. Just how long did their fights last when they _were_ both fresh? He only just managed to get the surprise off his face before either looked at him.

Cloud and Sephiroth quickly tucked their blades away before looking to Zack expectantly.

Cloud’s breathing had already settled to a steady pace, his water bottle back in his hand as he looked at Zack with raised eyebrows. The only lingering sign of exertion was the way sweat beaded slightly on Cloud’s brow; he wiped it away absently. Sephiroth still looked pristine.

When Zack led the way out of the training room, he pulled to a stop in the middle of the doorway; Cloud almost ran into him before he peeked over his shoulder. Though he was still standing in the entrance, he was wearing a scowl.

“What is this?” Zack asked, his own expression turning stormy. Cloud settled his weight back into his heels (he had needed to stand on his toes to see over Zack’s shoulder) and shifted to hide more thoroughly behind Zack.

In the hall, there was a crowd of SOLDIERs, mostly Seconds, but a spattering of Thirds, clumped in the hallway in front of the viewing window into the training room. The whole lot froze in place.

“We were just watching the spar,” someone piped up from the back, using the crowd to keep himself anonymous.

“None of you were invited to spectate,” Sephiroth interrupted. Cloud and Zack shifted to let him get by; Zack could have scolded them, sure, but it would stick more if it came from Sephiroth.

“We just saw it while passing by and stopped,” someone said.

“And you messaged your friends, or called them over as they passed,” Sephiroth said, finishing for the SOLDIER. Silence passed over the group. “You have been told that you will be brought up to date when the timing is appropriate. I expect you to remember this and continue walking, next time.”

There was a chorus of “yes, sir!”s from the group before they began to disperse as quick as they could.

Sephiroth stood in the doorway, ensuring that everyone left, while Zack turned to Cloud.

“You okay?” he asked, brow furrowed in concern.

Cloud rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture he had picked up from Zack.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I wish they hadn’t been watching, but it’s fine, I guess. It was going to happen sooner or later.”

Zack looked over his friend, then clapped one hand on his shoulder. He gestured with his head to the door, where Sephiroth had turned back to them, the group of SOLDIERs having dissolved.

“Good,” Zack said. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go grab some food, huh? I don’t know about you, but I definitely worked off lunch.”

Though it was weak, Cloud did offer a little chuckle.

“As long as it’s not the cafeteria,” Cloud agreed. Zack broke into a wide smile.

“Couldn’t agree with you more.”

Zack’s grin fell as soon as Cloud turned his back, following up the group. The SOLDIERs had been reprimanded multiple times, but the curiosity was growing. Sephiroth’s dressing down would stall them for a time, but word would spread about the incredible spar, and it would spread quickly. Zack was certain that the SOLDIERs would be keeping eyes on the training rooms, hoping to catch Cloud and Sephiroth at it again; they just wouldn’t linger long enough to be caught. As sour as it sat in his stomach, even the scraps of Cloud’s anonymity were just shredded. The rumor mill just worked too fast. He doubted the day would be out before the entirety of SOLDIER knew about the rookie who went toe-to-toe with Sephiroth and held his own. He would be watched with eyes that turned away as soon as they were noticed everywhere he went from now on.

The grace period they had to prepare Cloud as much as they could to enter SOLDIER was over.


	19. Chapter 19

Sephiroth learned quickly that Cloud was, surprisingly, a very heavy sleeper. He also either stole the blankets or curled into Sephiroth’s side, perhaps in the memory of Nibelheim, where every snatch of heat was precious. Every now and then, he snored faintly.

It hadn’t even been a week since Cloud was first in his bed, dragged there by a far-from-present Sephiroth. It hadn’t been something they necessarily discussed one way or the other. Sephiroth simply retired to his room one night to find Cloud asleep on his bed, a book dangling from his fingers. Sephiroth had attempted to wake him, but it proved more difficult than expected. He eventually caved and, gently as he could, tucked Cloud beneath the blankets. As soon as he was in the bed himself, Cloud had squirmed over, pillowing his head on Sephiroth’s chest, their legs tangled together.

Cloud had apologized first thing in the morning, but when Sephiroth insisted he didn’t mind, Cloud took it as an invitation to sleep in his bed every night. Frankly, he couldn’t find it in him to care. The only question, which was left unspoken and unaddressed, was whether or not the arrangement would remain chaste. As Cloud was asleep before Sephiroth went to bed, it wasn’t a pressing issue. At least, not overly pressing. Most mornings, Sephiroth woke before Cloud to attend to his various responsibilities. But a handful of times, in the lazy morning warmth beneath their blankets, things had gotten heated.

The first few times, Sephiroth had looked at Cloud in askance; he refused to pressure his partner. Each time, Cloud had managed to flush redder than their activities had already made him and, with a look that was all hesitance, paused for a long moment. Every time, Cloud eventually gave a little shake of his head. Sephiroth soon stopped asking, not wanting Cloud to do anything before he was ready just because Sephiroth seemed impatient. They kept things relatively chaste, all clothes staying on, heavy petting being the extent of their activities. Once they were clear on their limits, they settled into a comfortable arrangement, giving and taking without going overboard in either direction.

The true benefit was that the last of Cloud’s nervousness melted away. He had been reserved at first, too unsure of himself and their situation to do more than tentatively reach out, always ready to be turned down, never expecting anything but asking anyway. With the rough edges of their relationship smoothed over and Cloud finally truly comfortable, Sephiroth discovered that the blond was very, very affectionate. Though Cloud would never admit to it, Sephiroth attributed it to the blond’s childhood, where the only person he loved was trapped behind glass, never within reach. He seemed to want to make up for lost time, and frankly, Sephiroth didn’t mind at all. They kissed in passing, giving gentle touches to backs and shoulders, taking each other’s hands, Cloud climbing into his lap more than once just to be near.

Perhaps it was the new stability of his relationship with Sephiroth, but Cloud seemed to become more confident over all. Zack, who had been beyond hesitant about the next part of Cloud’s socialization, was finally convinced Cloud was ready to meet other people.

They started small, with Zack’s friend Kunsel. Though the Second was Turk-like in his bad habit of gathering too much information, Zack knew he could be trusted to keep his mouth shut when it counted. He was polite and personable and very patient, which proved to be exactly what Cloud needed. The blond faltered often, choked on his words, even stuttered occasionally. He kept looking at Zack for guidance in his answers and struggled to find his own responses when Zack wouldn’t provide. It took time, but Cloud was slowly becoming more comfortable speaking with Kunsel. After he got his feet under him, at Zack’s behest, Kunsel began to ask the more invasive questions the other SOLDIERs would pepper him with the second they got the opportunity. Zack had expected him to backslide, returning to his stammering and hesitance, but he found it to be smooth sailing. Cloud dodged questions by turning them back to Kunsel, gave non-answers, and when eventually pinned down and forced to respond, was confident enough to say that he didn’t want to discuss the matter, or that it was classified and he wasn’t at liberty to give details.

It turned out to be exactly the stepping stone Cloud needed. As they started introducing Cloud to more and more SOLDIERs, he navigated conversation with ease. They found that not many SOLDIERs asked the overly-personal questions when Zack was present, but were quick to try and catch Cloud alone to wheedle answers out of him. Cloud never quite managed to make friends with the other SOLDIERs; mostly because they treated him with distance. Zack wasn’t fond of the behavior, but he couldn’t force other people to act differently around Cloud. They treated him, not quite like a science project, but with the same detachment. His time isolated from the rest of the division made him a curiosity and little more. A few pursued multiple conversations with him, but most stopped approaching him once they either got their answers or were told outright that they wouldn’t be getting them.

Cloud didn’t seem to mind at all, and that worried Zack. He was entirely indifferent to the opinions or presence of the other SOLDIERs, outside of making sure they were comfortable enough to speak to him at all. They met the bare minimum of familiarity that would allow Cloud to work with the others should they be assigned missions together, but neither Cloud nor the SOLDIERs wanted to pursue a further relationship. It was true, Cloud had Zack and Sephiroth. Honestly, Sephiroth’s attitude toward potential friendships was much the same. He attributed it to their isolated upbringing, Sephiroth treated with cold distance and separated from other children, Cloud loved by an untouchable mother in the wilderness. Though the distance between Cloud (and Sephiroth) and the other SOLDIERs didn’t quite sit right with Zack, if his friends were happy, it wasn’t his place to complain.

Besides, if they were being honest, they had _far_ bigger problems.

Zack was out of things to teach Cloud. Cloud and Sephiroth would continue to train together if for no other reason than there just wasn’t anyone else who could really keep up with them. Cloud was now proficient in etiquette, society, and combat. They tried to stall despite the company’s requirements being met, but with Cloud interacting with other SOLDIERs now, there was no way to keep the secret. Theoretically, this shouldn’t have been a big deal. The entire department knew that Cloud would be inducted as a SOLDIER First, and while more than a few SOLDIERs were bitter that he wouldn’t have to work his way up through the ranks, they were also familiar with his skill level. There was simply no reasonable argument to _not_ make him a First.

The induction ceremony would be a hassle, but not an issue. Even beginning missions was unlikely to cause problems. No, the issue at hand was the Science Department. They all knew that Cloud was properly, if not overly, enhanced for a First, but routine mako injections were procedure, and Cloud hadn’t been exposed to mako since the labs, almost a year ago. Zack and Sephiroth knew it would likely be a mako shower, and they were equally sure that the last thing Cloud wanted to do was strip down in the middle of the Science Department, surrounded by Hojo and his lackeys, to be drenched in mako, which couldn’t possible hold anything other than extremely negative memories for him.

It didn’t help that Sephiroth was due for another round of what they had dubbed as the “Mystery Injection.” He’d been given one monthly alongside his scheduled mako doses and, when his reaction the second time had been identical to the first, they had needed to make accommodations for the situation. They hadn’t had a second conversation on the nature of the shot, but as time went, all three grew more convinced that it was distinctly related to Jenova. Sephiroth continued to cling to Cloud the second he was available; though Cloud loathed the Science Department and would not enter the department proper, he picked Sephiroth up in the waiting room each time. There didn’t seem to be much to be done for the situation. Cloud would bring Sephiroth up to their apartment with the man clinging to his hand, pressing up against him and holding him tight in the elevator; he could only be dislodged when they were moving and his grip on the blond was compromised. Cloud stripped Sephiroth down for sleep once they were safely in their apartment and tucked both of them into bed. It was a struggle, but he had mostly managed ignore the looming thoughts of Jenova that popped up every time it happened. The best solution they had was for Sephiroth to sleep off the effects, and though all three were still silently concerned about the injection, they were doing the best they could with what they were given.

When Sephiroth became aware that they were both scheduled to report to the labs on the same evening, he immediately called the Science Department. It took some throwing his weight around, but he got his own injection rescheduled. Sephiroth was sure they would try to pressure him into receiving it on the original day anyway, but he was no longer a child, held captive by the Department; there was little they could do to stop him from ignoring them and walking away. He would have refused to enter the department entirely, but he refused to let Cloud set so much as a toe in the labs by himself. Zack, unsurprisingly, felt the same.

They were running late to the appointment, but perhaps that should have been expected. It took a half-hour of cajoling and promising to be there with him to get Cloud out of the apartment. He walked slowly, feet dragging in his reluctance. He should have been concerned about potential onlookers and theoretical rumors, but Cloud couldn’t be bothered to care; he reached out and took hold of both Zack and Sephiroth’s hands. He held them tightly the whole way down and both SOLDIERs could feel the way he was trembling. Neither could bring themselves to pull their hands away either, not when Cloud needed them.

Cloud had long since gotten used to the elevators, but the mako-tank-feeling came back with a vengeance as they rode down to the basement level where the Science Department was housed. Sephiroth caressed his face, smoothed his hair from his eyes and ran his fingers through it, held his hand tightly. Zack squeezed his hand as well, his free one on Cloud’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. It was a repetition of what they had said to get him out of the apartment, but they made the same promises, the same reassuring insistences, and it seemed to be enough to get him through the ride, though Cloud did lurch from the elevator the second the doors opened.

He had come to a stop before the waiting room door and dug his heels in, his eyes wide with panic. It was another fifteen minutes before they succeeded in calming him enough to get through the door, another fifteen to get him into the labs from the waiting room. Sephiroth, who was perhaps too familiar with the Department, led them to the mako showers. When he had called to reschedule his injection, he had insisted that Hojo not take part in Cloud’s appointment. Yet, the second they got him to the showers, Sephiroth could see the man approaching. He took Cloud’s shoulders and turned him so the scientist wouldn’t enter his field of vision; Zack looked around to see what the problem was, his lips setting into a firm, angry line when he saw Hojo. He nodded once and gently pried Cloud’s hand from Sephiroth’s, continuing to make those promises of safety in a quiet voice, making sure to keep Cloud’s eyes trained on his own.

Sephiroth approached Hojo with fury that wasn’t even vaguely contained, yet the professor seemed entirely unruffled.

“You will not be a part of this appointment,” Sephiroth told him flatly; Hojo just raised an eyebrow.

“This is my department,” Hojo said slowly. “I have the right to oversee any procedure done.”

“Not this one,” Sephiroth said, tone dead.

“Step out of the way,” Hojo insisted, his patience starting to wear.

“No,” Sephiroth countered. “Your secretary confirmed that you were not to be a part.”

“My _secretary_ ,” Hojo hissed, “did not have the authority to make that decision.”

“I don’t care,” Sephiroth said; he could see a vein in Hojo’s forehead begin to pulse in anger.

“You are interfering with another department,” Hojo snapped. “If I have to get the President involved, I will.”

“Fine,” Sephiroth answered, raising one eyebrow in challenge. “Good luck contacting him in time.”

Hojo made a sound of anger and disgust in the back of his throat and stormed away. Sephiroth returned to his friends to find Cloud pale and shaking like a leaf, the Department staff standing to the side, hesitating.

“Cloud,” Sephiroth said, shifting into the blond’s field of vision again. He moved to stand in front of him and Zack quietly detached himself, standing to the side. He took both the blond’s hands in his own. “Do you remember what I told you?”

Cloud swallowed hard and took a few seconds to answer, but he said, “You’re going to be here the whole time.”

“That’s right,” Sephiroth reassured, tone warm. “Hojo won’t be here, I won’t let them do anything more to you, and we’ll leave the second you’re done.”

Cloud offered a nod, but that too was shaky. His hands tightened around Sephiroth’s.

“The sooner we start, the sooner you’ll be done,” Sephiroth uttered, and was given that shivering nod again.

He gently pulled his hands from Cloud’s and began to help him strip down, fingers tucking under the hem of his shirt.

“Close your eyes,” Sephiroth said in his ear. “Pretend we’re home.”

Cloud hesitate, but he followed the instructions. He wasn’t able to pretend to be anywhere else, not with the smell of chemicals and mako, the ticking and whirring of machinery surrounding him. He had to put his hands on Sephiroth’s shoulders for balance, but let his boyfriend undress him. Zack had looked politely away, but Cloud could feel the eyes of the scientists on him. He knew they were staring with the same cold, detached gaze they always did. It made him feel like an insect pinned to a board, like he was a curiosity about to be dissected.

Sephiroth gently walked him backward and said quietly, “It’ll be over quick.”

Sephiroth had to try more than once to pull his hands away, Cloud not willing to let him go yet. When he had backed up a safe distance, the scientists began the shower. Cloud was trembling all over, and not just from the chill of the mako itself. His eyes remained closed and that made it hard to tell what was happening. The shower seemed to go on forever, spraying him from all sides. The smell of it burned itself into his nostrils, the bitter taste seeping into his mouth despite the way his lips were pressed together. He thought he could hear the scientists whispering to one another, but it was hard to tell over the drone of the spray.

When it was done, he cracked his eyes open tentatively, swiping the mako from his eyes as best he could. He knew he had to wait until the mako dried and was absorbed as it could be before he was released. He shifted to sit down, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms tight around them. He pressed his forehead to his knees and tried to make his mind detach from his body the way it did sometimes, when things became overwhelming. Of course, _of course_ , when he really needed it to happen, he couldn’t manage it.

He vaguely heard Sephiroth arguing with the lab assistants outside the shower. Though Cloud couldn’t hear the words, he could hear the anger. Sephiroth was trying to get them to release him so he could dry elsewhere, but the assistants wouldn’t have it. It was against policy and procedure, putting others at risk besides. He would leave trails of mako, contaminating everything around him, if they let him go.

Sephiroth had been a second away from ignoring the scientists entirely, entering the shower, and taking Cloud home, procedure be damned. But it was at that moment that Hojo returned, wordlessly holding out a PHS with a victorious look on his face. Sephiroth gave him his iciest glare as he took the phone, stepping away to speak as Hojo stepped closer to the shower, inspecting Cloud with interest. His assistants passed him their notes and he read as Sephiroth argued and haggled with the President.

Despite the fact that the lab hands were more than capable of doing the procedure alone, Hojo had managed to convince the President that, as a result of Cloud’s passed enhancements, he was a required presence, to be sure that nothing went wrong. Sephiroth knew, _knew_ it was a lie, that it was just Hojo’s curiosity and sadism motivating him, but the President wouldn’t hear it. He was outright ordered to stand down, for this and any future procedures.

When Sephiroth returned, he passed Hojo back the PHS, promising, “This isn’t over.”

The professor only gave him a smug look in response.

Sephiroth stood with his arms crossed, clearly furious as he waited. Zack’s usual affable air was entirely absent, his anger just barely less than Sephiroth’s. Cloud trembled, and waited, giving a low, miserable whine that they could just barely hear outside the shower.

Hojo was looking between Sephiroth, Cloud, and the notes with interest. Cloud had responded to the shower as expected; there was truly nothing of note in that area. What his assistants _had_ noticed was the care Sephiroth was giving Cloud, the uncharacteristic gentleness he treated the blond with, his protectiveness that went beyond professional outrage. Hojo was aware of the possibility that they were in a romantic relationship; truly, it wasn’t a surprising turn of events. The way Sephiroth seemed to meet Cloud’s every need, assuaging his fears and supporting him in the right ways to actually be effective, could have been a result of the time they had spent together and the bond they had forged.

Hojo marked it in the notes anyway; after all, it wasn’t so unlikely that that premeditation, the ready assistance, even the care itself and the emotions behind it, were a result of the introduction of Sephiroth to C cells. There were other variables muddying the situation, but he wasn’t ready to discount that their connection went beyond the natural. The closeness, the fondness, the need to assist, the awareness of exactly how to persist—it could all be caused by the growing mental connection between the two. He wasn’t aware of the full effects of the C cells after each injection, but his secretary had told him the way Sephiroth seemed to cling to Cloud when he picked him up. He had even managed to get his hand on the elevator surveillance footage, and Sephiroth’s desperation to be near Cloud was a good sign.

He couldn’t be sure how much the connection had grown, or exactly what the effects would be. Could they feel each other’s emotions? Sense when the other was near? Guess eerily accurately at each other’s thoughts? So much of this project was hypothesizing on the barest scraps of information. He would have to see if he couldn’t get Subject C in more than once a month; Sephiroth was sure to follow, and their interactions would provide valuable data.

When the allotted time had passed, there was little Hojo could do to keep them. The second time was up, Sephiroth entered the shower, ignoring the assistant’s protests. The words were muffled, but Hojo could hear Sephiroth whispering to Cloud, tone taking on a warmth that he had never heard before. As he looked on, the general coaxed Cloud into unwinding from the ball he had tucked himself into and slowly got him dressed. The assistants protested again as Sephiroth swept Cloud passed them to the exit—they needed vitals, to check that he was okay. Everyone present knew it was bullshit, and Sephiroth didn’t even get a chance to lay into the staff again. Zack stepped forward, interrupting and stalling the assistants as Sephiroth stole Cloud away. Hojo watched their retreat until they were out of sight, then finally bothered to wave down his subordinates absently. They had as much information as they were going to get.

When Zack caught up with them, they were just entering the stairwell; they all knew that another trip in the elevator wouldn’t go well. Sephiroth had his arm around Cloud’s shoulders, which were still shaking. Zack followed them back to Sephiroth’s apartment, for once not interrupting the silence that hung. He unlocked the door so Sephiroth wouldn’t have to pull away from Cloud, letting them in and closing the door behind them. Sephiroth brought Cloud to the couch, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. The blond took the blanket in his hands, holding it close around him. Zack, unsure of what else to do, did what he always did when someone was upset: made tea. It took some digging in Sephiroth’s cabinets to find some, but when he finally pushed the drink gently into Cloud’s hands, the blond took it gratefully. He held it close for its warmth, holding it close to his face, trying to erase the smell of mako from his senses. He burned his tongue on it in his haste to get the taste out of his mouth, but it was worth it. As he drank, Sephiroth kept his arm around Cloud’s shoulders, Zack’s hand placed on his knee.

None of the three were sure of how long it took, but Cloud calmed down and came back to himself eventually. He finished the tea with a sigh and his first move was to set the mug on the coffee table.

“You okay?” Zack asked, unsure if he should even be asking. Cloud just offered him a shrug.

“You should shower,” Sephiroth said lightly. “It will get the last of the mako off.”

A small frown traced his face, but Cloud stood, wandering over to the bathroom with the blanket still cocooned around him. Zack and Sephiroth watched him go.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Zack asked as soon as he heard the water turn on.

“He’s resilient,” Sephiroth said, eyes still locked on Cloud’s direction. “It will be hard, but he’ll come back to himself.”

“What can we do to help?” Zack said.

Sephiroth sighed, finally turning his eyes to his friend, as he answered, “What we’ve been doing. Keep his mind off it as much as we can and try to get him back into his normal routine.”

Zack looked uncertain, but he nodded. They tossed around a few other ideas on how to help Cloud, but passed into silence as they heard the water turn off. A few minutes later, Cloud emerged, wearing an over-large tee-shirt that was clearly Sephiroth’s, pajama pants that bunched at the ankles because they were too long, and the blanket still wrapped around him.

“I want to sleep,” Cloud said quietly, half sounding like he was informing them, half asking for permission. Zack immediately popped to his feet.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow,” Zack said, taking the cue. He gave Cloud his most reassuring smile, nodded once to Sephiroth, and then slipped out of the door.

Cloud’s shoulders, where they had been slightly tense and nearing his ears, slumped as he looked back to Sephiroth. His expression looked pleading, his hands wringing the edge of the blanket. Sephiroth swept to his feet and crossed to Cloud with long strides. He wrapped his arms around the blond, who melted into the embrace, letting his forehead fall against Sephiroth’s chest.

“Will it ever get easier?” he asked, muffled, sounding near tears.

“With time,” Sephiroth assured, holding Cloud tighter. They stood there like that for a few more moments, waiting for the rest of the tension to slip from the blond. When he was as relaxed as he was going to get, Sephiroth swept him to his feet and brought him to bed. Cloud kept the extra blanket, but shuffled down, the edge of their comforter at his nose. Sephiroth dressed down as quick as he could before slipping into bed. He gathered Cloud into his arms, holding him close until his breaths evened out in sleep.

They weren’t out of the woods yet. Sephiroth’s injection was scheduled for tomorrow, and gods only knew how well Cloud would be able to cope when Sephiroth was in that needy, clingy state. Hojo was interfering in their lives, and it seemed like he had no plans to back off soon. Cloud would be inducted into SOLDIER, likely before he had a chance to recover from the professor’s meddling. He could be sent out on a mission in a matter of days, and Shinra would not listen if they protested, regardless of the ordeal in the labs.

Sephiroth was not a religious man, but he prayed to anyone who was listening that Cloud would get through it all in one piece.


	20. Chapter 20

Sephiroth, as usual, woke with the sun. He wasn’t surprised to find that Cloud was still asleep; he often woke second, and had had an extremely stressful day yesterday. Normally, once he woke fully, he would gently ease himself out of bed, usually succeeding without waking his partner. Today, he thought it would be unwise. Cloud was curled tightly into his side; somehow, one of his hands ended up tangled in Sephiroth’s hair. His face was pinched and from time to time, he jerked in his sleep. This was not the first time Cloud had experienced nightmares, he had them far more frequently than Sephiroth ever did. Sephiroth hummed quietly and smoothed a hand through Cloud’s hair until he settled back into restful sleep; waking Cloud from a nightmare only ever brought screams and panic and flailing.

He was never fond of using the internet from his PHS, but he had determined not to move until Cloud was awake, and he still had responsibilities. As he opened his mail folder, he was relieved to find a way to be productive while meeting Cloud’s needs, even if it meant fussing with his PHS.

It was another few hours before Cloud twisted and turned, rubbing his eyes as he slowly pulled from sleep. When he looked around, eyes bleary and heavy-lidded, Sephiroth returned his PHS to the nightstand.

“Good morning,” he said, one hand coming to Cloud’s back, pulling him closer, rubbing up and down his back in a soothing gesture. Though Cloud heaved a massive yawn, he didn’t attempt to sit up, tucking himself closer into Sephiroth’s side.

“’Morning,” he mumbled, half looking like he was about to fall back to sleep. Sephiroth was debating whether or not to let him return to sleep if he was so tired when Cloud sprung bolt upright. As the tiredness fell away, the memories of last night filtered back in.

Sephiroth sat up as well, taking hold of one of Cloud’s hands, watching the blond fight with his emotions. He couldn’t decide if he was panicked, afraid, or ready to cry. He eventually turned to Sephiroth with big, miserable eyes.

“How do you feel?” he asked, despite his discomfort being obvious. It was better to address the matter directly.

“Terrible,” Cloud muttered.

“Better or worse than last night?” Sephiroth asked. He was given a long considering pause as Cloud took stock of himself.

“Better,” he said hesitantly, as if he wasn’t quite sure.

“Good,” Sephiroth said, giving Cloud’s hand one final squeeze before getting out of bed. “You have the day off, and I will be working from home. What would you like for breakfast?”

Cloud eased himself out of bed with a guilty look.

“You can go into work, I’ll be fine—really, don’t look at me like that.”

Sephiroth had given him a flat, disbelieving look with a raised eyebrow.

“You could get through the day,” Sephiroth agreed, turning away to exit the room. “But attempting to deal with this by yourself would do more harm than good.”

“Sephiroth,” Cloud whined, following him out of the door.

“Breakfast?” Sephiroth asked again, ignoring the conversation entirely.

Cloud relented with a sigh. “It doesn’t matter.”

Sephiroth’s gaze cut to Cloud briefly before continuing into the kitchen.

Sephiroth cooked in silence, Cloud sitting at his island on a barstool that was tall enough his feet dangled. Usually, he kicked his feet absently. His uncharacteristic stillness didn’t seem like a good sign. He glanced to the blond many times while working at the stove, each time finding him with his shoulders by his ears, staring at the countertop.

No one would accuse Sephiroth of being a comforting person. He had been doing his best, and considering that he got Cloud through the appointment in one piece, without any panic attacks or use of poor coping mechanisms, he considered his attempts to be surprisingly successful. Frankly, he wasn’t quite sure how he knew what to do. He had given Cloud space when he thought he needed it, because it was what he would want himself. He reached out when he thought was appropriate, because he had seen Zack doing the same while comforting others. He made the reassurances and promises that he had longed for as a child. Following those guidelines had gotten him through every time Cloud had needed comforting, but it had begun to feel different. Instead of checking the references in his memories to know what to do, he just acted, and somehow, it had been exactly what Cloud had needed. It had simply come naturally to him, a gut instinct instead of a carefully calculated reaction. The right words fell from his mouth without thought or the need to consider each one to be sure it was correct. He had just known.

He chalked it up to practice; there was no other explanation he could think of. He had comforted Cloud before, perhaps this change was simply a sign that he had mastered the art. Perhaps it was because he knew Cloud so well. Or that he knew the position Cloud was in intimately. If he could tell Cloud’s emotions with eerie accuracy, it was because Cloud wore his heart on his sleeve (he ignored the times when he had known what the blond was feeling before the telling expression had crossed his face). While his sudden proficiency in navigating consoling was surprising, it wasn’t necessarily worrying.

They ate in silence, which was nothing unusual. Their silences were comfortable—or at least they usually were. Sephiroth found himself unsure if he should press Cloud harder about how he was feeling and Cloud was determined to avoid the subject as much as possible.

When the dishes were cleared and Sephiroth began to head down the hallway to his office, he heard Cloud call his name. He turned around to look, and the blond was staring at him with strange determination.

“Yes?” he answered. Cloud pulled in a deep breath, as if working up the nerve for whatever he would say.

“Go into your office today,” he said, as firmly as he could, and Sephiroth’s brows rose in surprise at the tone.

“… I’m going into my office now,” Sephiroth said slowly, unsure of where Cloud was going with this. The blond huffed.

“I mean your public office,” he clarified. Sephiroth, who had turned his head to look but not his entire body, came around to face Cloud fully, brows furrowed.

“I don’t believe that’s a good idea,” he said, repeating his earlier insistence.

“I do,” Cloud countered. It was clear he wanted this conversation to end, but he had made up his mind, and was too stubborn to drop it until he had his way.

“ _Cloud_ ,” Sephiroth said, softening, trying to reason with him.

“I just—want to be alone,” he explained. It threw a wrench into Sephiroth’s thoughts.

He paused, carefully looking Cloud over (and unconsciously checking their strange emotional connection), and found that Cloud was being honest. He wasn’t making an unnecessary gesture to prove his strength. It wasn’t even that he didn’t want Sephiroth’s help in particular. He simply needed some space, and Sephiroth could empathize with that.

“Alright,” he agreed slowly, giving Cloud a chance to change his mind. When the tension slipped from him, Sephiroth sighed; he really was set on this.  “I’ll be home for lunch.”

“You don’t have to check on me,” Cloud protested. “Just go have a normal day. I’ll be here when you get home, okay?”

Sephiroth looked Cloud over again, triple-checking that this was what the blond wanted. With another sigh, he nodded.

“Let me know if you need me,” Sephiroth said, and it wasn’t a request. Cloud considered arguing with the tone, but this was a compromise, and it didn’t hurt to give Sephiroth some reassurance as well.

“I promise,” he agreed. With that, Sephiroth nodded one final time, before returning to their bedroom to dress for the day.

On his way out, Sephiroth pulled another promise from Cloud to call if he needed anything, but left without a fuss. With the apartment finally to himself, Cloud let out a huge breath. Despite asking for solitude, Cloud wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He doubted training or reading were options; every time he got half a second to himself, everything flashed before him again. The more he thought about it, the tighter his chest grew. His vision swam, and it seemed like the walls were closing in on him, caging him like the shower had, like the mako tubes and cells and gurneys had.

He did some quick thinking, passing over each of his options, before making a break for the bedroom. The east wall was entirely glass, with one panel fashioned into a door, leading out onto a spacious balcony. He nearly shattered the glass in his hurry to get outside, and only avoided it by pulling his strength at the last second. He clung to the railing, bending slightly over it, and tried to breathe.

Midgar was a city covered in smog, and more than once, it had made Cloud long for the clean Nibel air. But this high up, above the reactors and traffic, there was that endless gust of wind that always plagued tall spaces. He shut his eyes and turned his face up. At first, the wind was strong enough that his breath caught in his chest, but with some effort, his breathing smoothed out. The breeze ruffled his hair, tugging it back away from his face. It fluttered his lashes and whipped at his skin. It wasn’t quite cold enough, but when his eyes were closed and the wind was in his face, he could pretend he was back on Mt. Nibel.

In very near every situation, he adamantly put his childhood from his mind. Now that he knew better, his actions sickened him and Jenova’s manipulating stung him, but the reactor high, high up in the mountains would always feel like home. Cold, clean air, a hint of mako on the breeze. He could pretend the rail beneath his hands was a pipe, or one of the railings in the reactor. The chill of the concrete beneath his feet felt like the always-frozen, compacted dirt around the reactor, felt like the metal flooring of the reactor itself.

The wind chimes he had bullied Sephiroth into getting clicked in the wind, and it sounded like the hanging strings of bones and teeth that had decorated his space in the reactor. He knew that the trappings of his space had been morbid, and in the case of the human bones, terrible. But the rest had been trophies, proof of his victories over the dangers around him. Now, he had people to spar with when he itched for a fight, but then his only options had been the wolves and the dragons. He loved the rush of the fight, the challenge a strong opponent offered. He didn’t particularly feel shameful over this—he knew that Sephiroth also hungered for an equal to fight, and Zack always bragged about the tough monsters he fought on missions.

 He remembered the decoration of his space fondly and felt a sudden, aching longing for a homecoming. He missed the feel of wolf pelts beneath his feet. He missed the smell of the frost and the crunch of snow beneath his feet. He missed the wolves and the dragons, especially the ones that had gotten into mako and served as a bigger challenge. He missed foraging for food, the calm focus of the search and the satisfaction of the find. He had grown used to it, but the readily available food that he didn’t work for still bothered him, feeling undeserved and cheap. He hated the way mako smelled like Hel now instead of home. He missed the easy confidence he had as the top of the food chain. He missed having clear cut goals, ones that he enjoyed instead of ones that loomed over him, forced on him by others. He missed being nothing but himself, even if that meant being feral and wild—it had also meant being free. Not caged in, not beaten into submission, not pounded into shape like metal, or having to chip away parts of himself to fit the mold the company forced him into. He missed feeling safe, feeling protected, and sure, he was cared for now, maybe even loved, but did Zack or Sephiroth _really_ love him as much as Mother had? He missed the clarity she gave him, her sweet voice and sweeter endearments. He missed—

His stomach gave a sudden lurch, and he bent at the waist, pressing his forehead to the cold metal of the railing. His grip grew tight enough that it began denting the metal.

He was beyond this—or at least, he thought he was. That confidence he missed had turned out to be an unearned, misinformed ego. Those goals he missed involved killing people brutally and with abandon. If Mother had ever really loved him, she had stopped. When he needed her most, when he let her words lull him into a false sense of security, she had left. Nothing about her was good. He shouldn’t be remembering any part of her with fondness—but godsdammit, the more time that passed, the more he was certain that he would _always_ miss her. She had wormed her way too deep inside of his mind and his heart, an infection he couldn’t cure, a parasite he couldn’t dig out. And knowing that, being so sure of it, sickened him. It enraged him. It wasn’t fair—he had done everything in his power to move on, but even the memory of her clung to him.

The wind chimes rattled in the breeze again, bringing him right back to home all over again, but it was spoiled now, tainted with the remembrance of his mother. Maybe even that drive to find a challenging fight was something she had taught him. Maybe he was just bloodthirsty, the way she had made him. Maybe the decorations he missed were just another backhanded way she had found to make him miss her without knowing it.

Shame turned his stomach, but rage (at himself, at Jenova, at Shinra, at the world) made him snarl and rip the chimes from their hook. He pitched them as far as he could, uncaring of where they would land. He watched them sail, breathing rough, heavy breaths. By the time they fell from sight, his anger had abated, leaving him with nothing but the shame. He backed up, leaning against the glass wall, and slid to sitting.

He stared blindly through the bars of the railing out into the city. He had come out here to escape the memories the night before had trudged up, and had ended up falling into another set of memories that were just as damning. He tried to think of something, anything else. He tried to guess what Zack and Sephiroth were doing in that moment, what their plans for the rest of the day were. He tried to imagine what his upcoming induction ceremony would look like. What would be his first mission? Would he be alone? Would he actually be First Class like Zack and Sephiroth?

The harder he tried to focus on those questions, the more the cloying reminders of everything he wanted to forget seeped back into his mind. He let out a little whine and hid his forehead in his knees.

Maybe he shouldn’t have told Sephiroth to leave after all.


	21. Chapter 21

 Cloud hadn’t intended to spend the entire day on the balcony, but he hadn’t even noticed when the sun went from glaring in his eyes to nearly setting. Somewhere along the line, he had stopped thinking, stopped feeling, mind detaching from body the way it refused to last night. He rested his chin atop his knees and stared blankly ahead, and though it came with numbness and an unhealthy distance between mind and body, he found a sort of peace that way.

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised to find Sephiroth looking worried when he stepped out onto the balcony. Distantly, without realizing it, he _had_ heard Sephiroth entering the apartment. The sound didn’t reach his awareness, but then, it didn’t have to. There was a buzzing in his mind, a faint tug that let him know Sephiroth was coming closer. He had never paused to consider this awareness, or even really realized he was responding to it. Sephiroth, for his part, couldn’t feel Cloud the same way. He had searched the apartment, growing more concerned as he looked without success, only to feel immediately relieved when he saw him through the glass. He stepped out onto the balcony hesitantly, unsure if Cloud felt any better, as he had found his way back into the tight ball he formed when he was distressed.

“Cloud?” he called, but got no response. “… Cloud?”

It took effort, but Cloud pulled himself out of his trance to look at Sephiroth; there was still that fuzzy, disconnected distance in his mind, but Sephiroth seemed to cut through it. If Cloud’s mind had pulled away from his body, it was like Sephiroth had managed to follow it to that separate plane.

“Hi,” he said lightly, resting his temple against his knees, replacing his chin.

Sephiroth quickly took stock of the balcony, noting the missing wind chimes and dented railing, but he would ask when Cloud felt better. He moved to sit in front of Cloud, crossing his legs as he sat.

“How do you feel?” he asked, watching Cloud carefully as the blond hummed and tilted his head, considering.

It took a moment for him to admit, “I’m not sure.”

It wasn’t the response he was hoping for. Especially considering they were on a timer. Sephiroth had left his office late, wanting to give Cloud as much time and space as he could. He would barely have enough time to check in before needing to head to his own appointment with Hojo, but he was too concerned to skip coming home entirely. Though Cloud usually came with him to help, he had no intention of asking for assistance if there had been no improvement.

“Is there anything I can do?” Sephiroth asked. He would be late if he needed to; this was more important, and he never really minded making Hojo’s life difficult.

“I don’t think so,” Cloud said quietly.

Sephiroth hesitated briefly before making a decision. He climbed to his feet.

“I have to go,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Where are you going?” Cloud asked, tilting his face up to maintain eye contact.

Sephiroth didn’t want to answer, aware that Cloud would disagree with his decision, and likely back his disagreement with every ounce of stubbornness he had.

“My appointment,” he admitted reluctantly.

The thought of the appointment, of Hojo and the labs, snapped Cloud back to himself. He narrowed his eyes and then rose to his feet as well, despite the way his joints protested from having been in the same position for far too long.

“No,” Sephiroth argued, putting his hands on Cloud’s shoulders to stop him. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call Zack, you should stay and rest.”

“Don’t be difficult,” Cloud countered with a frown. “You helped me yesterday, and I’ll help you now.”

“Don’t force yourself through this out of a sense of obligation,” Sephiroth insisted. “I’ll be fine—truly.”

“I don’t feel _obligated_ ,” Cloud huffed. “I care about you, of course I want to help.”

Sephiroth watched him warily, inspecting him for any signs of lingering distress. All Cloud did was fold his arms over his chest and raise an eyebrow in challenge. Sephiroth could think of nothing to do but sigh.

“I’ll still bring Zack, and you’ll leave if it becomes too much.”

Cloud let out a hard breath in frustration.

“You don’t get to order me in private,” Cloud argued.

“I’m not _ordering_ —”

“You really are.”

“I won’t have you suffer for no—”

“It’s my decision to make—”

“—reason. How do you think I’d feel knowing you were suffering unnecessarily for my sake?”

“I—! I…” Cloud deflated. “Alright. But only if it gets really bad.”

Sephiroth nodded and opened the door back into the bedroom, already pulling out his PHS to call Zack. Cloud began to change without quite realizing how much Sephiroth’s presence was helping. He was out of his trance, not thinking about any of the daunting memories that had been plaguing him. He had a goal to focus on, someone else to worry over, and it was a surprisingly effective distraction.

With the time it took for Cloud to get dressed, Zack successfully beat them to the Science Department. Cloud had needed to pace his breathing carefully and hold Sephiroth’s hand in the elevator, but it was already going far smoother than it had the day before. As soon as they were visible, Zack began carefully inspecting Cloud, looking for any of the lingering ill effects of last night. He opened his mouth to say something when they got close enough, but Cloud gave him a little wave of hello before promptly ignoring him to pull open the door. He stood to the side to let Zack and Sephiroth enter first, taking the moment for a few more deep breaths. Zack had turned to look over his shoulder at Cloud, and he took that as his cue to finally enter the room. He refused to cross the room, forcibly keeping as much distance between him and the labs as he could, though it was only a few feet. Sephiroth hesitated, one hand on the doorknob to enter the labs.

“Remember what we agreed,” he reminded Cloud. The little flash of irritation at being coddled was surprisingly the perfect way to break the tension that had been building in him. He huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes, but nodded. Sephiroth was quietly glad to see the attitude—if he could be exasperated, he was doing better than before.

He never needed to be escorted around the labs. Usually, an assistant was waiting at the door to lead SOLDIERs to the appropriate location for their injection, but they had long since stopped waiting for him, as he would always breeze past them. He made his way through the familiar maze of desks and tanks until he reached the chair, tucked in a corner, away from the experiments that would cause concern or fear, where SOLDIER injections were performed. Hojo was waiting for him, a tray of needles under his fingertips. Without a word, Sephiroth slipped into the chair, carefully avoiding the sight of the needles. It had been a very long time since his own stay in the labs, but needles still made him uneasy.

Hojo, in that bad habit of his, muttered to himself the entire time. This was nothing new, and the few words he managed to catch weren’t particularly alarming: injection, procedure, new data, results. He slipped out of his jacket and held out the arm closest to the professor. Hojo grabbed the arm with plastic-gloved fingers, pulling it into place. The cold alcohol swab pressed against the outside of his upper arm before it was tossed away; this was Sephiroth’s cue to look away if he wanted to avoid seeing the needles. He could make out the glow from the corner of his eye; he began with the standard mako injection.

Hojo didn’t let go of his arm as he retrieved another prepped needle. Another pinch, and the Mystery Injection was done. He began to lean away, but Hojo tightened his grip. Needles be damned, Sephiroth looked in confusion.

There were two other syringes full of the same red, faintly glowing liquid of the Mystery Injection. He immediately looked up at Hojo for an explanation, but the professor ignored him, reaching for another needle.

“What is this?” he asked sharply; it was enough to get Hojo to pause and look up at him.

“An increase in dosage,” he said, explaining nothing.

“I can see that,” Sephiroth bit. “I’m supposed to be informed about any changes in medical procedure.”

“You were sent an email,” Hojo said absently, adjusting his grip on the syringe, about to administer it.

“I was sent no such thing,” Sephiroth said, forcing the professor to halt once more.

“It was sent late. We only recently received approval for the increase.”

Sephiroth gritted his teeth. When would the Shinra executives stop playing with him? He wasn’t a science experiment, they shouldn’t be able to make decisions regarding his health without his consent. They _shouldn’t_ , but they could, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Why are you tripling the dose instead of doubling it?” Sephiroth said, watching Hojo with narrow eyes.

“If I were to explain the details to you, they would go over your head,” Hojo said with an indignant sniff, literally looking down his nose at Sephiroth, whose free hand formed a fist.

“Try me,” he challenged.

“You’re stalling,” Hojo countered. While true, it wasn’t the point.

“I have a right to be informed.”

“I have official approval to do this regardless of your opinion on the matter.”

“If it doesn’t make a difference, why not just tell me?”

Hojo flicked him a sharp look. He ended the conversation by administering the injection with a little more force than necessary.

Sephiroth stopped arguing, but began worrying. How intense would the effects be? Regardless of what Cloud said, he was still shaken from his own appointment. Sephiroth knew he would be nothing but a burden, and one Cloud really didn’t need right now. By the time the effects set in, he wouldn’t be able to keep that in mind; he’d likely just cling to Cloud regardless of anyone’s opinion.

Hojo gave him the final shot quickly, before he could protest, and slipped the syringes into a prepped bag for medical waste. As he sealed it and pulled off his plastic gloves, Sephiroth shrugged back into his jacket and hauled himself out of the chair. He only got as far as one step before Hojo’s grip was around his elbow, vicelike. The look he shot the professor could have melted right through solid steel.

“You’re to stay overnight for observation,” Hojo said, a smug, mocking lilt to his voice. It was clear that this had also been authorized by the powers that be.

“Let me tell my escorts home that they aren’t needed,” Sephiroth said; the effects were beginning to set in, and he needed to move quick if he was to do even that in time.

“They will be notified,” Hojo answered. “Come.”

The professor released his arm, and though he was doing his best to glare the man to death, he could do nothing more than follow.

When they stopped, Sephiroth’s gaze cut to Hojo again, more acidic than ever.

“I’m not going in the cells.”

“They’re the best for observation.”

“ _I’m not going in the cells_.”

“I can get further authorization if I need to,” Hojo said, looking him over; the smug look returned. “But I don’t think you’ll make it until I do.”

Sephiroth wanted to argue, but he needed to shoot a hand out, pressing against the cell wall to keep upright. His head swam viciously, the hall seeming to tilt. He pressed the heel of his hand to his temple, trying to relieve the aching migraine that was setting in, to clear his sight enough to walk, but it was no use.

Somewhere along the line, Hojo had grabbed his arm and dragged him, stumbling, into a cell. He chose the smallest out of pure spite and left Sephiroth in the middle of the room, weaving on his feet, blinking blindly. By the time he found his way to the cot and seated himself, fought through the fog enough to see, Hojo had not only left the cell, but the hallway.

It took a surprising amount of self-restraint to not make a rude gesture at the camera recording the room.

 

“What do you mean, ‘being held for observation?’”

The woman was flinching back from him, holding her clipboard with a white-knuckled grip.

“He has to stay the night here, for his own safety,” she explained.

“’His own safety’ my ass!” Zack snapped.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t make the decision,” she said, voice quiet.

Zack had to pause, heaving in a big breath, sighing it out while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I know, I apologize,” he said reluctantly. “If he’s staying the night, I would like to stay with him.”

“I’m staying too,” Cloud said, earning a brief, surprised look from Zack.

When they had been given the news, Cloud had popped to his feet, his face a mask of anger. Zack had to lunge to catch his friend’s upper arm and pull him up short; he had started to storm toward the assistant. Zack still had Cloud’s arm locked in his grip, only holding on tighter when the blond gave a tug in attempt to pull away.

The woman half-raised her clipboard, as if to hide behind it.

“You—you don’t have observation clearance,” she told them quietly.

Cloud made another attempt to step forward before Zack outright pulled on his arm, forcing him back a few steps. Sephiroth must have rubbed off on him—his glare was just as intimidating as the general’s.

“We aren’t observing,” he said. “We’re—visiting.”

“The Science Department doesn’t have visiting hours,” she said in a quiet voice.

“I’m aware that this isn’t the infirmary. We would still like to visit.”

She hesitated, before saying, “One moment please,” and ducking back into the labs, presumably to ask a superior what she was supposed to do next.

Zack let Cloud go, watching as his friend began to pace. It looked less like a nervous attempt to expend energy and more like a tiger prowling, waiting for its perfect opportunity to strike. Zack kept a close eye on him.

When the woman came back into the waiting room, Zack snatched a hold of Cloud again, who grunted in irritation, turning his glare on Zack now.

“Visiting isn’t allowed,” she said, glancing between them, nervous. “He’ll be released at 0800 hours tomorrow morning.”

Zack gritted his teeth; Cloud hissed through his.

“Thank you for your time,” he said politely, though his voice was tight. He had to bodily haul Cloud out of the waiting room, and his friend fought him the entire way.

“We can’t just _leave_ him there!” Cloud protested.

“We don’t seem to have a choice, Spike,” Zack said, sounding resigned.

“Gods only know what they did to him, we can’t trust that he’s safe,” Cloud snapped back.

Zack sighed.

“Shinra considers him a valuable asset,” he explained slowly. “They’ve put too much, time, effort, and money into him to do anything really dangerous.”

“But—!”

“ _Cloud_ , this isn’t the same situation you were in. Shinra only started to care about your safety _after_ you were released. It might be a hell of a night for him, but he’ll be safe.”

Cloud didn’t seem to have a counter to that. He ground his teeth together, hands in tight fists at his sides. Zack put his hands on his friend’s shoulders.

“We’ll be down first thing in the morning,” Zack said, doing his best to be soothing. “That’s the best we can do.”

It seemed to be enough. Cloud deflated, and the look he gave him turned miserable.

“But you know how he is afterward,” he protested, despite looking resigned himself. “He needs me.”

“He’ll make it out in one piece,” Zack promised, carefully not saying how bad that one piece might be.

“But…”

Zack slung his arm around Cloud’s shoulders and began to steer him back to the elevators.

“How about you come stay with me tonight?” He didn’t say that it would be bad for Cloud to be alone right now; they both knew it. After one final glance back at the waiting room door, Cloud nodded weakly.

Zack decided he would do everything he could to keep Cloud distracted. If he was otherwise occupied, hopefully he wouldn’t spend the entire night as either a ball of worry or lost in the aftermath of his own ordeal. Really, that was all he could do to help. That, and pray.


	22. Chapter 22

Zack’s attempts to keep Cloud occupied were only briefly successful. They had gotten back to Zack’s apartment and as far as ordering pizza and flicking on the TV. Cloud was watching him flip through channels when the change came. He suddenly gave a sharp gasp, like a man tossed into freezing water. His eyes widened and his hands fell from where he had his arms crossed before.

“Cloud?” Zack had called in concern. He waited a beat. “ _Cloud?_ ” He crossed to kneel in front of his friend, face lined with concern and confusion. He took his hands in his own, and the second he had them, Cloud squeezed tightly. He hesitated a moment, watching his friend. It looked like every muscle in Cloud’s body was rigid and taut. It didn’t help Zack’s nerves that he was staring blindly in front of him, as if he wasn’t there. He tried waving a hand in Cloud’s face; no response. “… Cloud?”

As he looked on, Cloud’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head, eyes shutting. His face passed into a look of intense concentration, his head tilting to the side, like he was trying to focus hard on listening, though the only sound in the room was the distant chatter on the TV. Zack’s stomach turned—he’d seen that look on Cloud’s face before. Maybe his friend’s guess about this all being tied to Jenova was more accurate than they had thought.

Cloud hadn’t even realized his bodily responses as they happened. It all came on so quick, it was hard to make sense of it all. It didn’t come as a trickle but as a crashing wave. So much feeling, he didn’t know what to do with it.

He could feel a sharp, bitter anger and resignation that wasn’t his pour into his mind. A buzzing grew in a crescendo until it blotted out all other sound. Beneath it all, there was a sudden, sharp tug that Cloud couldn’t quite place. The buzzing narrowed down, merging with the strange pull. He could suddenly feel Sephiroth, could pinpoint his location with total accuracy. He could feel the emotions roiling in him, though they grew fainter as physical effects coupled with the mental connection.

Sephiroth was dizzy, with a pounding pressure just behind his eyes. A ringing filled his ears, as all-consuming as the buzzing had been for Cloud. He was slumped back on the cot, the chill of the cell walls pressing against the back of his neck. The general’s hands developed an uncharacteristic tremble. He felt like an overstuffed pillow, bursting at the seams. He felt like he was trying to keep hold of a live wire. He was full to brimming with what, he wasn’t sure, just that there was so _much_ and even his body was struggling physical to keep it all contained. There was one curiously empty part, amidst the chaos inside him; a stinging gap of nothingness right in his chest, trapping his lungs and brushing against his racing heart.

It wasn’t until Cloud attempted to reach out that the empty gash in his sternum seemed to fill, the cacophony in the rest of his body contracting sharply to fill the gap. It settled in a mirror of the intense connection Cloud felt, tethering them together. In the absence of the strange, overwhelming ringing, it felt like Sephiroth was entirely hollow around the point that tied them together. He bent forward, pressing his aching head into his hands, the heels of his hands pressing on his eyes.

“Cloud,” he uttered, and it was a miserable thing, full of longing and pain and despair.

Cloud cocked his head to the side, listening intently to Sephiroth’s call.

“ _Cloud_ ,” he said again, with a faint edge of desperation.

Cloud had no idea what he was doing. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings or anything outside of the connection between them, something he couldn’t begin to understand. But apparently, he didn’t need to. It was an instinctual, gut response to reach out, tangling their minds further together.

Sephiroth could feel Cloud’s faint concern, but the determination to help was what came across clearest. When Cloud reached out, he gave a little gasp, as he felt the sudden rush.

Suddenly, Cloud was _there_ ; he could almost feel him in the cell with him. He could feel phantom hands cupping his face, the faint press of lips to his forehead, before ghostly arms settled around his shoulders. Cloud had followed along that tether, pressing his mind into Sephiroth’s, bringing his will to bear. He made no attempt to override Sephiroth’s own emotions, will, or perceptions. But his presence there was enough to fill that strange, hollow absence that had overcome Sephiroth. Where there was emptiness there was suddenly _Cloud_ , with his fierce determination to help. The longer he was there, the more comfortable he grew with the situation, the more confident he was that there really _was_ something he could do for Sephiroth, even from so far away.

It took little thought for Cloud to let his own calmness, his confidence seep through Sephiroth, stopping up all the gaps, making him feel whole again. They shared no words, but there was no need. The second-hand emotions Cloud filled him with comforted him more thoroughly than any amount of speech ever could.

Sephiroth pulled his head from his hands, which had been clutching desperately. The tension slipped from his body, his shoulder’s falling from their position by his ears. When he sat upright and blinked, he could see where he was. The sight of the cell sent a flicker of rage through him, but Cloud sent a tendril of calm out, wrapping around him, easing him back into peace. He wondered faintly at the way his anger was hushed; he felt the connection in the deepest parts of him, but he didn’t understand it, having accepted it without truly acknowledging its existence. The ordeal had sapped the strength from Sephiroth entirely, and he laid out on the cot, crossing his legs at the ankles. He expected to spend the next thirty minutes staring at the ceiling, as he usually did before falling asleep. But the exhaustion had settled into his bones, cradled by the serenity Cloud leant him, and he slipped more easily into sleep than he ever had before.

When Sephiroth was asleep, Cloud pulled himself away gently. He left the confidence, the calm, the knowledge that everything would be fine with Sephiroth, and that newfound tether between them was something that he couldn’t have erased if he tried. Though, even in sleep, Sephiroth felt strangely lonely in his own head as Cloud withdrew his will. But the hollow feeling didn’t return, the edges of their connection and the lingering, borrowed emotions overriding the emptiness.

Finally disentangled from Sephiroth’s mind, Cloud’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked a few times, his face scrunching, as if the room was suddenly too bright. When the lingering effects of his interlude with Sephiroth faded, he saw that Zack had muted the television and was sitting on the coffee table directly across from him, watching intently. Cloud recognized the relieved grin on his face easily.

“Hey,” Zack said, eyes still flickering over him, trying to find clues as to what had happened on his person.

“Hi,” Cloud answered. Zack looked back to him. It was an underwhelming response.

“You okay?” he asked, watching Cloud’s eyes carefully for any hint that he was lying.

“I… I think so,” Cloud said, looking down at his hands, unsure. “I feel fine. Good, even.”

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Zack asked, eyebrows raised.

Cloud’s lips pursed as he thought, trying to make sense of the interaction, where he had been flying on blind instinct, some part of him knowing what to do even if his consciousness didn’t understand.

“It was—something with Sephiroth,” he explained, though he looked thoroughly perplexed himself. “I think they put him in the cells? He was… there was something wrong with him, and it felt like he called out to me. I’m not sure how, but I think I answered. He’s fine now; he fell asleep.”

Zack looked at him with both confusion and concern.

“Do you still think it’s related to…?”

Cloud heaved out a sigh, rubbing at his neck in nervousness.

“I really don’t know,” he admitted. “It was like we were—connected, sort of like how she and I were, but it felt totally different. Even if she’s involved, I think there’s still more to it.”

Zack hummed in thought before slapping his hands down on his knees and standing up.

“Well, we’ll just have to sort it out when you’re both here. In the meantime, pizza came while you were—uh, doing whatever. It might be a little cold; you were out like that for a while.”

“Right, okay,” Cloud answered, though he hesitated briefly. He pulled his awareness briefly inward, checking that Sephiroth was still happily asleep. Contented, he brought himself back to the present and climbed to his feet. “You had better save me some!”

Zack laughed and called, “You’re the weirdo that wanted pineapple on his pizza—I’m sure not touching it.”

He fell back into familiar territory with Zack, relieved of worry over Sephiroth. He didn’t notice the considering look on Zack’s face when his back was turned. He didn’t see his friend’s lips press into a concerned line or the wariness in the tense line of his shoulders. By the time Cloud turned back, Zack hid it all away under a smile.

Everything _seemed_ to be okay, but from Zack’s experience, nothing with the Science Department was that easy.


	23. Chapter 23

Though the three reconvened first thing in the morning, Sephiroth instructing his secretary to clear his and Zack’s schedules, thinking nothing of it from thereon after, they couldn’t really come up with much. Sephiroth and Cloud confirmed that they seemed to be able to feel the nearness or distance between each other, though neither could really put the feeling of it into words. As neither was truly sure of what their exchange the previous night _was_ , they didn’t go into detail about it. They agreed that they had been able to feel each other, that something passed between them, but that was the extent of their ability to convey what happened.

They agreed to keep an eye out for further effects, but in the days after, they made little progress. That strange sense of each other’s location remained. More than once, one was flooded with an emotion that didn’t fit their surroundings, that felt entirely foreign. They agreed that there was some sort of emotional bleed-over, but it still didn’t give them much more of an idea as to what was going on. Frankly, they didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Cloud was inducted into SOLDIER with unusual pomp and circumstance. The traditional ceremony usually featured the new class of recruits and a speech; the inductees would shake hands with Sephiroth and the President and that was the end of things. There had never been a separate ceremony for any one SOLDIER. Even Sephiroth had been introduced to the program alongside fellow cadets. Cloud was decidedly unhappy about it—he hated being the center of attention. It was a spot he was unfortunately put into over and over again, from his time in the labs to the swarm of curious SOLDIERs who bombarded him at the first chance to the strange ceremony.

There was a _crowd_ , and not a small one, that turned out to see the newest star of SOLDIER be introduced. The speech given was long, informing the civilians that though the induction was certainly unorthodox, it was deserved. They had a large screen behind the stage and projected film of a spar between Cloud and Sephiroth that neither knew had been recorded. Sephiroth seethed with anger that someone had the gall to record them without their knowledge, much less present the footage to the public. Cloud felt vaguely sick as the eyes of the stunned audience turned to him in amazement. The crowd wasn’t quiet in how they whispered to each other about the new prodigy, and Cloud felt like he was under a microscope as their attention pinned him. The company had wanted to assure both the public and other SOLDIERs that Cloud’s induction as a First was justified, and the film silenced any dissention.

He was stiff when he shook the hands of the President and Sephiroth, moving on autopilot as he came to stand next to them, despite how he wanted to hide behind them. He listened to the thunderous applause, but he fled the stage as soon as he could, doing his best to move quickly without actually looking like he was fleeing. Sephiroth had been able to feel Cloud’s discomfort second-hand and Zack was able to see it at first glance, but that didn’t stop the other SOLDIERs from swarming him once he reentered Shinra Tower. He was swamped with congratulations, though he could _see_ the bitterness on more than a handful of faces. He could also see the fear—they’d seen the footage. Sephiroth’s immense capabilities were acceptable because they were familiar, and each SOLDIER had either been around Sephiroth or heard enough stories to know that he could be trusted. He cared about each member of the program, despite not personally knowing each. They were under his charge, which put them under his protection. They knew he had their backs, but Cloud was a mystery, one they had been trying to crack since they were first allowed to talk to him.

More than one SOLDIER feared Cloud, but none of their interactions supported the concern. He was known to be polite, but shy. He was quiet, listening more than speaking, and sometimes a little oblivious, things sailing right over his head. More than once, he had been given a backhanded compliment or subtle insult and failed to pick up on it. It had become something of a game for the SOLDIERs, trying to find ways to mock the big bad soon-to-be First. They failed to realize just how quickly he learned. The first person who had been caught was given a look of pure fury and fled the conversation for his own safety. After that moment, Cloud had adopted the game the SOLDIERs played, giving as good as he got, usually with a smile on his face. They came to realize that, though he was respectful and generally kind, he also took no shit. He occasionally got caught in the game, trading politely delivered insults back and forth with another SOLDIER; it won him begrudging points from the group. That little rapport he had built crumbled, both because he _was_ inducted as a First, and because, those who hadn’t seen him in action yet saw what he was truly capable of.

It didn’t much bother Cloud; he had Zack and Sephiroth. As Zack had told him, the other SOLDIERs would come around. He won them over more quickly than anticipated. He was given his first mission two days after his induction: a solo assignment to clear out high level monsters in the area just outside Midgar. His next few missions were also on his own, but when he was finally assigned to work with the other SOLDIERs, it was an interesting affair.

As the ranking officer, it was on Cloud to lead the mission. However, not one of the men with him seemed willing to tolerate it. They had more experience in the program and would not take orders from a rookie, no matter his rank. When it became clear that they had no intention to listen to him, he didn’t kick up a fuss. He was quietly contemplative. He continued to give orders, which were ignored. He didn’t push the matter. When they decided to go east when Cloud had told them to go south, he still didn’t press them. He did, however, stand to the side with his arms folded, watching as his men walked right into the nest of monsters he had been trying to steer them around. The group floundered, becoming overwhelmed quickly, and more than one SOLDIER looked to Cloud, still lazily observing, with anger.

While he had a point to make, he didn’t let things get out of hand. When it became clear that the SOLDIERs couldn’t actually handle the swarm they had stirred up, he had intervened. The men stood, stunned, as he wiped out the threat quickly. When he was finished, he sheathed his swords and folded his arms over his chest again, one eyebrow raised.

“Are you ready to listen?” he had asked, and, though it stung their pride, the SOLDIERs fell into line. The rest of the mission was smooth sailing; Cloud was excellent in combat and more than comfortable navigating the wilderness, all those years in the reactor paying off well.

After that mission, his opposition faded. Though no one was quite happy about it, he had won their respect. Sephiroth had been proud of him, but Zack had just found the story hilarious. Cloud had admittedly smiled a little while relaying the events.

Their only true, lingering concern was the game the Science Department was playing. It took time and no small amount of effort to get Cloud to adjust to his monthly injections. He was always accompanied by Zack or Sephiroth, but the sheer terror faded, provided that Hojo didn’t interfere (that always sent him right back to square one and likely always would). Sephiroth’s regimen remained the same: one dose of mako, three of the Mystery Injection. Every other visit he was required to stay for observation.

When Sephiroth was allowed to return to the apartment, Cloud retrieved him. The clinginess of before hadn’t quite abated, but it did lessen. He was still adamant about being near Cloud, but he didn’t hang on him the way he used to. Zack had stopped coming with them, confident that Cloud could not only handle him but that they were probably best off without his interference. They held hands on the way up and didn’t part once they returned home. They would undress and fall into bed, though their interactions remained chaste.

Their connection was at its most intense after the dosages, and only grew more so with physical contact. Cloud laid on Sephiroth, whose arms wrapped around him to hold him in place, and they remained for hours with their foreheads pressed together. They never went into details with Zack, because they agreed that the description would alarm him, though they were confident there was nothing to be concerned over. There was just no way to explain it right to their friend.

As they laid together, their minds tangled together into a comfortable knot. Thoughts and feelings flowed between them as easily as breath between their lungs. With practice, they gained more control over the affair. Though the tangle itself was terribly pleasant, they worked on keeping themselves separate but connected, sharing with the other only what they chose to, instead of the free, easy exchange of before. Once they had mastered the skill, though, they tended to stay comfortably entwined; the reunion between their minds just felt so _right_. The effort to learn wasn’t wasted, however. They gained more control over their connection at all times, not just after the injections. They stopped the accidental emotional bleed-over. Though it was more difficult without the preceding shots and general nearness, they were able to reach out to each other, as well as close themselves off. They sent each other little flicks of happiness when one found out the other was having a hard day. They sent love and concern before missions—there was too much distance when on assignments to hold that intensity of the connection. As time passed and more of the serum was in Sephiroth’s system, though, their range seemed to grow.

It was more difficult when Sephiroth was held for observation. Without the proximity, proper reunion was impossible; they tried time and again, but couldn’t manage that perfect mental entanglement. That didn’t mean they were completely separate. They found that it was easier for Cloud to send thoughts and emotion to Sephiroth than the reverse, particularly after the injections. Those nights were much like the first, Cloud providing calm and comfort, holding Sephiroth together, filling the post-shot emptiness that plagued him when he couldn’t return home with Cloud. It wasn’t as good as when they were together, but it was enough.

They remained suspicious of what the Science Department’s end goal was, even of their required “observation.” They had tested it with Zack; no one could tell when they utilized their connection, there was no outward sign. Their best guess was that they realized being with Cloud helped and the Department’s motivation was simple sadism. They did the best they could with the situation regardless.

The Department’s meddling didn’t prevent them from making progress in other areas. As he proved himself over many missions, Cloud was accepted as Sephiroth’s true equal. The distance and bitterness from the other SOLDIERs faded as they came to see that he deserved his rank, despite not earning it through promotions. He never had as many friends as Zack, he honestly felt no real need for them, but he became what he overheard himself referred to as the “approachable Sephiroth.” Sephiroth was intimidating, not only for his skill, but also his demeanor. Cloud never radiated the friendliness Zack did, but he didn’t hide his emotions the way Sephiroth did; he had no cool exterior. He laughed with his men, ready to joke with them, even accepted playful teasing, though he always had a retort he delivered with a smile. He never mentored anyone, but did do occasional training sessions to help SOLDIERs with a combat ability they were struggling with, as long as they requested it politely and didn’t demand his time as if they were entitled to it. Particularly while on missions, he was happy to teach those who asked about various skills for surviving in the wild. As he had displayed these skills on even his first missions, he was asked time and again how he learned so much about life outside civilization; he dodged these questions every time without fail.

He had to do a lot of question-dodging as the SOLDIERs grew comfortable enough with him to start asking questions. Sure, there had been the initial batch of nosy queries when he was first introduced to SOLDIERs who weren’t Zack or Sephiroth, but at that time, he was a special case, under a secret assignment, and saying things were classified was enough to stop the line of inquiry. Without that ready excuse, he found that he had to quickly learn how to answer questions without actually giving any information. The entirety of SOLDIER knew that the strange new First had a mysterious past, and everyone was determined to find out about it. Zack and Sephiroth refused to give answers, saying it wasn’t their place to do so. When Cloud dodged questions, he led the conversation in other directions to stop them from asking further. When they ignored the way he steered the conversation and pushed him harder, his second dodge would be delivered with enough finality in his tone that the matter was, invariably, dropped. The SOLDIERs respected him enough to give him that much.

Many SOLDIERs wondered how someone so indifferent and aloof as Sephiroth could be friends with someone as affable and friendly as Zack. They had similar questions about Cloud, unsure of how he fit into the dynamic. He was playful and open when with Zack, but matched Sephiroth’s quiet and calm. He laughed and smiled readily with each, but when the three were together, SOLDIERs looked on with interest, trying to figure out the relationship between their superiors.

Cloud had, decidedly, developed an outward persona for the SOLDIERs. They wanted someone approachable and friendly, but still serious and somewhat reserved. They didn’t hesitate to talk to him, but the distance between them always remained clear. He was their superior, and they would never truly be friends. It wasn’t necessarily in Cloud’s nature to be as outgoing as he pretended to be, but he had always learned quickly. Zack had taught him well, and when it was requested of him, he was able to perform well in conversation. He had learned Zack’s friendliness but also picked up Sephiroth’s commanding distance. He would joke with the SOLDIERs when it was called for but maintained a healthy, professional distance.

Though he could navigate conversation and affect openness, he let the pretense drop while among his friends. The SOLDIERs, not realizing that his approachable nature was a pretense, always wondered at his interactions with the other two. He took a dominant role in conversation with the SOLDIERs, but Zack treated him like a little brother, and Cloud fell into that role readily. They poked fun at each other and Cloud still laughed easily, but it was quieter. His smile was shier. He traded quips with Sephiroth, matching him in his cleverness. He talked with, what seemed to be, an uncharacteristic softness. Not all of the front Cloud put up was fake, and it showed in the lingering playfulness, even if the delivery was very different. He never seemed uncomfortable in front of them, but he seemed completely at ease with Zack and Sephiroth. There were enough similarities in his behavior that the other SOLDIERs didn’t suspect that he was lying to them, but they still marveled at the gentleness he displayed with his two friends.

Overall, he adjusted to life at Shinra well. Barring run-ins with the Science Department and their scheming, he was even happy, comfortable, and loved, for the first time since the reactor. He even liked his work, finding missions to be fun and rewarding, even if paperwork was tedious. There was very little he would change about his life—in fact, there was nothing he would change except Hojo’s meddling.

He had gotten _too_ comfortable. He should have expected something to go wrong; things always did for him. The curse of his last name struck again.

Zack, Sephiroth, and Cloud had been in Sephiroth and Cloud’s apartment, sharing a lazy Sunday evening with a movie that was so bad and over the top it was funny. Zack had laughed hard enough that he cried and Cloud wasn’t far behind him. Sephiroth found himself laughing fondly at the other two more often than he did the movie, but he was still enjoying himself.

When the alert had come, it was delivered to all three. Two beeps went off and one chocobo wark (Cloud shot a glare to Zack and threw a pillow at him for changing his text tone; Zack just laughed and ducked). They all pulled out their phones, a little surprised from the get-go. It was very rare that two of them were sent on a mission together, and they had only had one with all three of them in attendance. They were curious about what was such a big deal that they were all being called in.

Sephiroth finished reading first, his hand tightening around his PHS hard enough that the device creaked dangerously. Zack finished second, swearing harshly under his breath. Cloud, who had had been literate but very unpracticed before joining Shinra, read slowly, and it was another few seconds before he saw the problem.

_Mission Location: Nibelheim_

He paled.

“Hey,” Zack said immediately, reaching out to put his hand on Cloud’s knee. “We’ll talk to them, there’s no way all three of us really have to go.”

Cloud didn’t answer.

What business did Shinra have with _Nibelheim_? There was nothing left but the reactor and the mansion, just far enough on the outskirts of town to avoid the flames. He knew that Mt. Nibel’s wildlife was dangerous, but, even if the monsters had gotten into mako, it shouldn’t be anything that any one of them couldn’t handle.

He read on, eyes skipping down to the mission objective.

“A reactor repair mission to an isolated area doesn’t require three Firsts,” Sephiroth said with a frown and a crease between his brows, voicing the concern that had risen in Cloud’s own head.

“They picked us for a reason,” Cloud said, though his voice was so quiet that someone unenhanced would have missed it. “They know what happened. They know what we know. It’s on purpose.”

“Still, we have valid points to argue against it,” Zack insisted. “We have a case we can make.”

Sephiroth shook his head.

“Cloud’s right, this is no coincidence,” Sephiroth agreed. “They won’t let any of us bow out.”

“Maybe it’s just a—a test,” Zack said. “To see if we would agree. We should still try.”

“If they wanted us to try,” Cloud said hesitantly, “why is the mission scheduled for 5 hours from now?”

Zack hesitated.

He was entirely heartfelt when he said, “… _fuck_.”


	24. Chapter 24

Though all three knew it wouldn’t work, Zack stuck to his word, and attempted to haggle with Shinra about the mission. He made offers and promises and compromises, but was met with the same response no matter who he talked to: “I’m sorry, I don’t have the clearance to change the mission team.” It didn’t matter how far up the chain of command he went, no one had clearance, which was a load of bullshit. Zack and Sephiroth had both altered the rosters for their missions for a variety of reasons: injuries, arguments between SOLDIERs, trading out people to adjust the skillset of the team. Someone with an ominous amount of authority organized the mission and went out of their way to be sure no changes were made.

Cloud and Sephiroth didn’t bother trying to help Zack in his lost cause. They went about preparing and gathering supplies, Sephiroth watching Cloud closely, Cloud moving on autopilot. When Sephiroth reached through their connection to see how Cloud was, to try and offer support, he found that he was firmly walled off. Cloud might seem to be in a daze, but he was aware enough to isolate himself. It didn’t sit right with Sephiroth. He _knew_ Cloud was upset, knew he was hurting—what else was he feeling that he felt he had to hide?

He told himself it was a courtesy, to prevent bleed-over, to not accidentally foist his rioting emotions on Sephiroth. He told himself that, but he didn’t quite believe it.

The vagueness of the mission was beneficial, in some ways. Without knowing what to expect, they needed to pack more to cover their bases. It gave Cloud something to do, something else to focus on. He went about preparing as slowly as he could, but he still ended up with two hours left before they departed without anything to keep his mind busy anymore.

Usually, they would have moved down to the hangar as soon as they finished packing, to be readily available and potentially start the mission early. Though waiting around didn’t sit well with any of them, staying in the apartment at least gave Cloud some privacy. He continued to keep his mind from Sephiroth’s, but both Sephiroth and Zack kept offering him assurances. They promised not to leave him alone, that he could choose to hang back at any time, to go as slow as he needed. It didn’t help much, but it was better than nothing.

Cloud was feeling too much, frankly. Desperation, fear, apprehension, reluctance, anxiety. A longing (to return home or to have the mission over with?) and a distant excitement. He couldn’t make heads or tails of some of it and decided to pull his mind away from Sephiroth’s. Truly, Sephiroth’s guess wasn’t entirely off; the separation was, at least partly, to spare him the overwhelming emotional mess.

As they arrived at the helicopter pad, their expressions were enough to confirm the guess that Tseng, their pilot, had formed after reading the mission briefing: this was not as simple as it seemed. He had been the Turk called in for the original arson and slaughter, he was very aware of what Nibelheim meant to these men. It seemed like they came to the same conclusion he did; this was no simple reactor repair.

Their expressions as they approached the helicopter were all the confirmation he needed. Hot anger threaded through Sephiroth’s normally stony expression. Zack’s smile and laugh were noticeably absent. Cloud’s normal confidence and excitement for a mission was similarly missing; he stared blankly ahead. The blond’s expression was never quite as free as Zack’s, but the utter lack of emotion on his face, something that he had come to expect from Sephiroth but not from Cloud, was another red flag. Both Sephiroth and Zack kept glancing at Cloud every few seconds.  

Tseng greeted them with a wordless nod and didn’t wait for a response before climbing into his seat. When they were all seated and safely in the air, given utter privacy, Zack had expected Cloud to do _something_. Reach out for Sephiroth’s hand or climb into his lap for all Zack cared. The way he sat silently, staring blankly ahead didn’t sit right with him. When he looked over, he saw Sephiroth looking on with a similar frown. They both wanted keep making soothing promises to him, but it was too loud in the helicopter, though they weren’t sure Cloud would really be listening anyway.

Their concern abated when they landed outside the wreckage of Nibelheim. When they touched down, Cloud’s eyes had slipped closed. He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out slowly before climbing to his feet. When he did, he was present again; they both guessed that he had been using the ride over as a chance to brace himself. He led the group out of the chopper but stopped to wait for Tseng, who looked at him expectantly when he exited.

Cloud looked up at the sky, which was still black in the now early morning hours. Far from Midgar, he could finally see the stars again.

“We can’t continue on right away,” Cloud said, still looking up; he never led missions if the other Firsts were present, but they seemed content to listen. “The mountain isn’t safe in the dark, even with our eyesight. We need to wait.”

The Firsts conceded the point—they had done night missions before, but rarely in the wilderness. Regardless, Cloud knew the area best, so it made sense to follow his advice. When he looked back at the other men and received nods, he turned and began to lead the way to Nibelheim.

He hardly got in two steps before Sephiroth caught his arm, making him look back.

“We should go around,” Sephiroth insisted, Zack nodding behind him, Tseng watching in the background.

The simple curiosity on Cloud’s face turned into something hard as he shook his head.

“No,” he said, looking back at the town. “I need to see it.”

“You don’t,” Sephiroth said.

“You can’t do anything about it now,” Zack agreed.

No one attempted to argument that he didn’t deserve to be put through the ordeal. It was on both Sephiroth and Zack’s tongues—they cared about him and the last thing they wanted was for him to put himself through hell over something he couldn’t change. But he _had_ been responsible for the massacre, even if he regretted it, even if he hadn’t known better at the time. So many people suffered and died here at his hand. It would be an insult to their memory to suggest he didn’t deserve it.

“I’m going to see it,” Cloud said with a hard note of finality in his voice. He stared down Sephiroth who matched his glare. Sephiroth had done exactly what Cloud was doing before, forcing his way through intimidation. He wasn’t one to be cowed. He didn’t want to see Cloud suffer, especially when it could be so easily avoided. The standoff lasted long enough that Sephiroth was about to open his mouth to argue again when Zack put his hand on his shoulder.

“It’s his call,” he said, though he sounded about as happy about it as Sephiroth was. He was supremely reluctant, but he let Cloud go.

Not much of Nibelheim had been spared. There were a few walls standing on the outskirts of town and some burnt framework scattered through the area, the rest a mat of ash. The horror of it was sprinkled around the scene, bits and pieces of bones poking up through the ash.

Cloud forced himself to look. This is what he had done. This is what _Jenova_ taught him. There was a lesson to be learned here, and if his stomach turned, it only cemented it further.

It worried Sephiroth that Cloud’s mind remained closed off to him, preventing him from helping, but he couldn’t force the issue.

Cloud’s progress through the town was slow and silent, but when they reached the other side, they couldn’t see any relief. In fact, they couldn’t see much of anything on Cloud’s face. He had gone stoic, his expression as shut off as his mind was. He kept the lead of the group, bringing them into the mansion.

“There are rooms on the second floor,” Sephiroth said, familiar with the manor in a way Cloud was not. Tseng and Zack both moved to go up the stairs, but Cloud hadn’t moved an inch, so Sephiroth didn’t either.  When Tseng looked back at them, Zack’s put a hand on his shoulder and steered him upstairs. He began to chatter amiably, returning to his usual cheer, though it was obvious it was forced. Tseng would have preferred to stay and gather information (the more dirt they had on the General and his strange equal, the better), but Zack had made it clear that he would prevent it, even if it was left unspoken. He chose to pick his battles and let Zack lead him to the bedrooms. Sephiroth only began to speak when they were out of earshot.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding both confused and impatient.

“I’m not tired,” he said.

“I didn’t ask if you were tired. I asked what you are doing.”

Cloud heaved a little sigh.

“I want to be outside.”

“Cloud,” Sephiroth said, tone softening. “Spending hours out there will only make matters worse.”

“I’m not going into—I was going to go to the forest,” he explained. Sephiroth frowned again.

“You were the one who said it was dangerous at night,” he countered.

“I won’t go _in_ the forest, just a little way from the manor,” he said. The hard look on his face melted just a little, turning just a bit pleading. “I just want to see the stars. Be out in the cold again.”

Sephiroth watched him closely, but eventually conceded.

“I’m going with you.” It wasn’t a suggestion. Cloud sighed, but turned to the door regardless.

“If you’d like.”

When they exited and hard gust of cold wind greeted them, Cloud turned his face into it, his shoulders relaxing a hair. He went to the forest’s edge and found part of a downed tree, dragging it through the snow to a safe distance, before sitting on it. Sephiroth went to sit beside him, but was watching Cloud more than their surroundings. The blond breathed deeply, eyes occasionally fluttering shut, but he seemed to calm. It helped that he had positioned them with their backs to the wreckage of Nibelheim.

“I miss it, sometimes,” Cloud admitted after a while. He glanced at Sephiroth, who was watching with interest, so he continued. “It wasn’t all bad—not bad at all, at the time. There are bits and pieces that were innocent enough that they weren’t spoiled. Like the snow and the cold and the stars. If I’m careful not to think about the rest, it’s nice. Comforting.”

Sephiroth hummed his acknowledgement before they passed back into silence. He wasn’t sure of what Cloud’s reaction would be, but he took the risk to reach out and take his hand. Cloud didn’t look away from the moon, but laced their fingers together.

When Cloud seemed calm enough for it to not bother him, Sephiroth asked, “Why are you closing yourself off?”

He thought he overstepped some invisible boundary when the silence stretched. When Cloud spoke, the hesitance in his tone was enough to convince him that the blond had just been trying to pick his words right.

“This is… a lot for me,” he began, faltering through it. “It’s not all pretty nostalgia. I wouldn’t want to burden you.”

“You aren’t a burden,” Sephiroth said, making his quiet in the hush of the night. “If I was unprepared to handle what you’re feeling, I wouldn’t have asked.”

It was enough for Cloud to glance at him, measuring his sincerity, before he looked away with a snort.

“Imagine what the SOLDIERs would think, to hear their general being kind and selfless.”

A frown traced Sephiroth’s lips. Cloud _had_ gotten good at dodging unwanted conversation.

“They aren’t my concern at the moment. I want to help, if I’m able. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

“I should,” Cloud disagreed, voice edged with something sharp. “I got myself into this mess. It’s on me to handle it.”

“You _didn’t_ get yourself into this.”

Mentioning Jenova was a sort of taboo among them, one that Sephiroth tended to respect. But he had a point to make. It didn’t matter though, Cloud just shook his head, staring back at the stars.

“She didn’t make me do anything. I _wanted_ to—wanted to really badly, actually. _I_ made the decision. It’s my fault.”

“She was the one who taught you it was right. You hadn’t known anything else. How were you to make a proper decision?”

“I wasn’t a _child_ , Sephiroth,” he said, tone only getting sharper with anger, but whether it was for Sephiroth or himself, he couldn’t say. “I was able to think clearly. I don’t have an excuse.”

“You’ve said yourself that you weren’t able to think independently.”

“Just because she was in my head, doesn’t mean I couldn’t make my own choices.”

“If every single choice you made aligned with her will, do you really think she didn’t sway you?”

Cloud grew more and more agitated as the conversation went. He had yanked his hand from Sephiroth’s. His hands were in fists on his knees, every line of his body tense.

“Coincidence.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“I _could_ think for myself.”

“Having thought patterns doesn’t mean she wasn’t guiding them. You said she was in your head, she was in the perfect position to do so.”

“Stop it!” Cloud shouted, jumping to his feet. He turned to glare at Sephiroth, his eyes glowing in the dark.

“Stop what?” Sephiroth said gently. It only aggravated Cloud more.

“Stop trying to pretend I’m innocent!” Cloud threw one arm out toward the wreckage of the town. “ _I_ killed them. _I_ lit the fires, _I_ killed everyone who escaped. I _wanted_ to, I was excited to do it, _happy_ to do it. I fucking laughed through the whole thing! Their blood is on _my_ hands!”

Sephiroth moved slowly to give Cloud time to react, but all the blond did was watch suspiciously as he got to his feet. He placed his hands on Cloud’s shoulders, looking him in the eye.

“I have no intention of erasing what you’ve done. I’m not excusing it.”

“Then what is your _point_?” Cloud hissed.

“When the Wutai War ended,” Sephiroth began, throwing Cloud off with the topic change, “I barely spoke three words a month. I spent every hour I could isolated. I couldn’t bear to look anyone in the eye.”

“What does this have to—”

“Eventually, Zack had enough of it. He stormed into my apartment and sat me down. It was the only time I’ve ever been scolded.”

Cloud opened his mouth to interrupt again as Sephiroth paused, but he plowed on anyway.

“I lost count of how many people I killed in Wutai. Men, women, children. Villages razed to the ground. Everyone suspected of rebelling was killed without a proper investigation to deter people from fighting back. I have more than one event like Nibelheim to my name.”

Cloud seemed to soften as he spoke; he never lost the wariness entirely, but the tension was falling.

“I blamed myself. I was the one who committed the atrocities. It was clearly my fault. It took almost an hour of arguing with Zack before he finally got through to me. Yes, I brought all that destruction. I had even planned it to the last detail. The blood is still on my hands, and nothing will ever wipe them clean. But had Shinra not ordered it, I would never have raised a hand against Wutai. They told me what to do, so I did it. It hadn’t crossed my mind that I could refuse. I had let Shinra guide my decisions my entire life without question. I am not innocent, but I am not the only one to blame.”

Sephiroth watched Cloud closely. He could see that he still wanted to argue. He wasn’t ready to give up his guilt; he held the hurt too close for that. He was determined to continue seeing himself as a monster, despite having done everything in his power to stop anything like Nibelheim happening again. He wasn’t ready, but he also didn’t have any other points to make. Eventually, he gave up, sagging and looking at his toes.

“I understand your position. If you stop closing yourself off and let me in, you won’t overwhelm me or scare me away. I would like to help.”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Cloud said, suddenly hesitant again. “My head isn’t really a great place to be right now.”

“You don’t have to protect me from you.”

Cloud looked up at him, searching his face for something. He eventually came to a decision.

“I think—I think I want to try and figure this out on my own, at least at first,” he said. “There’s still a lot for me to sort through and I think I want to do it at my own speed, if that makes sense.”

“I’m happy to respect your privacy. As long as this is about privacy, and not because you feel you’ll be a burden or that I will think differently of you.”

Cloud shook his head, and the last of the tension disappeared. He even offered a faint smile.

“It’s not that, I promise,” he assured. “And honestly, you’ve already helped a lot.”

Sephiroth nodded his acknowledgement, offering his own smile.

“Just remember that I’m here if you need me.”

The smile on Cloud’s face grew just a bit as he nodded back. Putting his hands on Sephiroth’s shoulders for balance, he stood on his toes to press a kiss to the man’s lips.

“Thank you.”

Sephiroth leaned down to kiss Cloud again lightly and took his hand. As he did before, Cloud laced their fingers together. As he returned to sitting on the downed tree, he pulled Sephiroth with him. They sat in silence again, though this time it was comfortable. Cloud stared up at the sky, and Sephiroth eventually followed suit. He looked for a good ten minutes before speaking.

“I know you missed them, but how can you stare at the stars for so long?” he asked. It surprised a laugh out of Cloud.

“There’s more to look at than just pretty white dots,” he explained.

“I fail to see what else there could be.”

“There are constellations, I’ve been trying to find them again and see how many I remember. I used to know them all.”

“I don’t know how you see can find shapes in them. They all look the same.”

Cloud smiled again and leaned over into Sephiroth’s space, pointing upward. He taught Sephiroth the constellations, one after the other, occasionally quizzing him to see that he had been following. It ended up being a pleasant, and very appreciated, distraction.

There was more to be distracted from than he realized. It had begun so quietly that he didn’t notice it start at all. A buzzing slowly built in the back of his head, a strange pressure that grew the closer they came to Nibelheim. It pressed between his ears, foreign, but its nature was lost. Buzzing and pressure in his head were no longer anything of note; they hadn’t been since his connection with Sephiroth deepened. It built slowly and steadily, growing so gently that he still didn’t take notice, despite the way it only continued to rise the longer they stayed in the area. It eventually formed a headache behind his eyes, but he ignored that—it wasn’t the first time his tie to Sephiroth had made his head pound. If the intensity was caused by anything, he assumed it was from Sephiroth checking in and pressing close to the barriers he put up. It was a new development, that he could still feel Sephiroth despite being walled off. But, previously, when Sephiroth noticed that he cut himself off, he yielded to respect his privacy. Perhaps in his concern, he was staying pressed up against the wall, attempting to provide comfort that never quite reached Cloud. It was true that, after their conversation, it didn’t make sense that Sephiroth would force himself to stay so close; he had agreed to give Cloud his space. But by that point, the headache itself had dulled, and he had become accustomed to the immense pressure and buzzing in the back of his head, to the way his ears continued to ring. He failed to consider it again.

So many miles away in Midgar, Hojo had given up his work for the day. There were multiple projects that deserved his attention, but he was too busy guessing and hypothesizing about what was happening a continent away. It had taken longer than expected, but the Reunion Project had finally taken its next step. He flipped the pages of his clipboard to Subject C’s schedule.

When he had first acquired Subject C, he hadn’t been expecting the effects of the new introduction to his system. He had taken a blood sample from Subject A, whose guards he needed to scold again; they were given their assigned titles for a reason. She should always be referred to as Subject A to keep distance between her and her handlers; if they grew over-fond of her, it would complicate matters. The next person he heard call her “Aeris” would be fired.

He had theorized that the Ancient’s connection to the planet was built into her cells, making it present in her blood. If given to Subject C, he thought it would bolster his connection to Jenova. It turned out to be the opposite; it had only been hours after the first dose was given that C began to cry and shout and scream for his “mother,” calling for Jenova by name when that proved useless.

Subject C’s primary fault was that he was raised away from Shinra observation. It was clear that Jenova maintained a strong hold on his mind; their connection was of no concern. What he lacked was combat training and an understanding of the world. Without training, he would be easily stopped by members of the SOLDIER program, as he had been when he was detained and brought to Hojo in the first place. A lack of understanding of the world would prevent him from moving through it with ease to follow his path.

Once he found that Subject A’s genetic material blocked his connection to Jenova, the substance became a steady regimen. He had final enhancements to make, but once C was released to SOLDIER, he could learn what he needed to without suspicion. He was convincing precisely because he wasn’t aware of the nature of his distance from Jenova. They had to go out of their way to hide what they were doing, C’s scheduled mako injections being diluted by the addition of A cells. They could do little but sit on their hands as the months passed, but at the appropriate time, he would be reconnected to Jenova, and the Reunion Project would continue.

It worked beautifully, up until they stopped dosing him with samples from Subject A. He was tapered off from the substance slowly to ensure that he had no awareness of it, but weeks went by with his system clean of it and there was no sign of Jenova returning. It would take some sort of catalyst, he realized. Sending him to Nibelheim was the only reasonable option. He was well aware that the general and his lieutenant wouldn’t let Subject C return alone. He recommended that both be sent, though they would be a potential obstacle once C was reconnected to Jenova. The lieutenant wasn’t C’s equal in either skill or enhancement; he posed little threat but would serve well as a first practical application of C’s skills. Sephiroth was a potential problem, but if the C cells in S’s system worked the way he hypothesized, he would pose no threat. In fact, he could be an ally, if everything fell into place properly.

There was nothing he could do but wait, of course. He was not a particularly patient man and wanted to know the outcome immediately. But this, this was different. This was worth waiting for.


	25. Chapter 25

Cloud had watched the stars until it was impossible to continue, the sun blotting them out. He turned his gaze to Mt. Nibel, losing himself staring at that the way he had the stars. Gazing at the sky had been relaxing, calm, and familiar. The mountain was familiar in an entirely different way. Some part inside of him sang “ _home_ ” and he committed himself to pretending not to hear it. Anxiety snaked through him, turning his stomach and making his pulse quick. It would be his first time home since he had left, but the fond memories of it were tainted, leaving him unsure if he should be horrified or pleased to see it again. He thought that if it was possible to see his space without the context of the reactor, there would have been more of a flutter of excitement. But there were the failed experiments there, the now sickening stink of mako, his bloody scrawl across the walls. There was Jenova there. He was beyond conflicted; he felt torn in two.

Regardless of how he felt about the matter, the mountain had a pull on him, like a hook in the heart. He suspected that even if he had the option to avoid the reactor, his feet would force him there anyway.

As Cloud watched the mountain, Sephiroth watched Cloud. He could see a storm of emotions on his face, but there were so many written there that he couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what the blond was feeling. He wished fervently for Cloud to reopen their connection; if he knew what he was feeling, he could help. He was about to give it up as hopeless when he heard the door to the manor creak open on its rusty hinges. Sephiroth untangled their hands and rose to standing.

Tseng, in the strange way of the Turks, looked immaculate, exactly as he had been when they entered the mansion. Zack, for his part, was yawning and stopped to stretch on the doorstep, before continuing toward them while rubbing his eye. Cloud finally got to his feet.

“Where’d the tree come from?” Zack asked.

Though they felt pulled like a magnet, Cloud tore his eyes away, breezily saying, “The forest.” Zack visibly rolled his eyes, but it was enough to clear the dead air between them.

“Is everyone ready?” Sephiroth asked, looking between the other three.

There was a round of nods, but Cloud had glanced back toward the mountain, looking distracted. When Cloud looked back at the group, all eyes were on him, clearly waiting for him to take the lead again. It wasn’t as if Sephiroth didn’t know where the reactor was; he’d been there twice and had a memory that Cloud had yet to see fail. Zack and Tseng may have both been there, but they had likely forgotten the way. Cloud wasn’t sure if it was because he was the most familiar or out of deference for the emotional ordeal this was.

Either way, he took point without wasting more time. The other three turned toward the marked trail, but followed after a moment when Cloud turned toward the forest itself. They got far enough in that Zack stated what was on the mind of the other two as well.

“Won’t it take longer going through the underbrush?” he asked.

“There’s a game trail a little further in,” he explained. “The marked trail would be shorter, but it would mean crossing the rope bridge, which was unstable last time I saw it. The rope’s probably rotted away almost entirely by now; it would just collapse on us.”

“How do you get around it?”

“The bridge connects two peaks with a small valley in the middle. I’m taking us directly to the far peak, where the reactor is.”

“Gotcha,” was all Zack said, and the matter was dropped.

True to his word, a small trail turned up in less than a minute. They followed it right through the forest at the base of the mountain, which was far larger than it looked from town, out onto the barren,g grey stretch of mountain itself. There was a little winding path visible that crawled up the side of the peak that they made for.

“The shortest way requires free climbing,” Cloud explained as they began to ascend. “A pretty long stretch of it. We’re going through the caves, which smaller monsters usually hide—they shouldn’t be a problem. The only real concern is the dragons. They usually stay as far up as they can get, but some have taken to the caves to avoid competition. If we come across any, it’ll be very close quarters.”

They didn’t have to explain that they were taking the long way for Tseng. Normally, the Turk would have protested as a point of pride, but this seemed to be a simple question of enhancements, not skill, which wasn’t anything he could compensate for.

The native wildlife was, as promised, not a matter of concern. They wound their way up the mountains, passing back and forth between the caves and the mountainside. They passed the mako fountain that Cloud had mentioned in that first interrogation, so long ago. Zack wanted to look around for natural materia, but he didn’t think Cloud would appreciate drawing this mission out any longer than they had to.

They had come across one nest of dragons, only about a minute or two from the reactor itself. When Cloud had peeked around the corner to look ahead, he held out his arm to hold the others back. Their luck was apparently terrible; the nest they found was full of hatchlings, guarded by their mother. There was nothing more deadly in the Nibel area than mother dragons protecting their young. Cloud had originally thought the mako smell was caused by smog off the reactor, but no, there was a little trickle running down the far wall, at the back of the nest.

Even at first glance, Cloud knew they had really stepped in it. A mako dragon nest and the only space behind them was a tight hallway in the caves. He didn’t stay long when he caught that first glance, but he didn’t need to, to see the way the mother was sniffing, obviously having caught their scent.

“Back,” Cloud hissed, crowding them backwards.

“What is it?” Zack asked back in a whisper.

“Mako dragon nest,” he answered.

“There’s no room to fight in here!” Zack shot back.

“There’s no room to fight in there either,” Cloud countered, but his back was turned to the group, drawing his swords.

“You aren’t going to take them all on alone!” Zack insisted.

“There’s no room for Masamune or the Buster Sword in here, and the best way to take them on is funneling them through the hall to fight one on one.”

“But—!”

“Zack,” he whispered, looking over his shoulder with a look of impatience. “I’ve been handling Nibel dragons since I was a kid. I’ll be fine.”

He wanted to argue, but Cloud had a point. None of them had any real experience against the creatures, but Cloud had plenty. If he could handle them less enhanced, untrained, with only a pipe and his hands, he could surely handle them now.

Cloud deliberately didn’t mention how close a call some of those fights were. Mother dragons were tricky under the best conditions, and ones that had gotten into mako were especially hellish. The only benefit to the tight space was that he wouldn’t be swarmed by the hatchlings while trying to deal with the mother.

Nibel dragons had been his favorite challenge when he still lived on the mountain. But there had only been a handful of times he had sought them out in the caves. Every time he had come home bleeding and singed, if exhilarated and victorious.

The mother had come clambering around the corner into the joint between their passageway and the rounded, dead-end cave where the nest was. Cloud watched her closely, looking for the first hint of movement that would give him time to respond. It was only because he was knew dragon body language well that he caught the signal, the way her nostrils flared to pull in air, jaw tensing to drop as soon as she was ready.

As he had access to the mako fountain as a child, he had always had materia in his arsenal. More than once he had lamented leaving his stash hidden away in the reactor; Shinra issue materia felt tinny and metallic. He had no fondness for their manufactured materia, but he was glad he had equipped Blizzard when preparing for this mission.

The ice blocks from his spell appeared just as the dragon blew out its first stream of fire. He casted a row of large chunks of ice, each melting in turn, preventing her attack from reaching him and his party. A thin layer of water coated the floor, splashing up his legs as he ran in to take advantage of the pause between attacks that was required while she pulled in breath. Knowing fire wouldn’t be an option in time, she raised a large clawed paw, batting at the space where Cloud had been.

 He had seen her pull the paw back to wind up and carefully timed his jump so that he would land on top of it. She had no intention of staying put and allowing him time to stand there, but he didn’t need it. It was more of a ledge to push off of than anything. He caught her on the downswing, sword planted firmly in her eyeball. She shrieked and thrashed, almost knocking Cloud loose. It took longer than he would have liked, but he got his feet planted on her cheekbone, using it as leverage to swing himself up onto the high crest where head met spine. He had been about to yank his sword free of her eye when it happened. She blew fire up; the fire crashed against the ceiling, but there was a backsplash. From his position on top of the dragon’s head, he was in a prime location to be hit by it.

He usually limited himself to elemental materia, as it was what he had been working with longer, where his true skill was. He usually only kept elementals and Cure on him, but had tucked Barrier in a slot just in case (it was a long shot based off his worst fears, but he hoped that if Jenova returned, the magic might be enough to keep her at bay, the same way it held back attacks).

When the dragon blew the fire up, she had turned her face to the roof, causing Cloud to fall, hanging vertically. No matter his skill with materia, he just couldn’t cast the Barrier quite fast enough. He got it up before too much damage was done, but his right arm was torched just past his elbow. Cloud let out an uncharacteristic curse. He had hoped to get through this without injury so the others wouldn’t realize quite how dangerous the situation had been, wanting to avoid being scolded for taking it on by himself. But he’d fought enough dragons to know those would be third degree burns. He’d had to reach up and pat his hand to extinguish his glove, which had caught the flames and held them. He could see little pieces on his fingers, in a spot or two on his arm where the flesh had turned black at the edges.

His breath came in short and hard. He’d always had a high pain threshold (which Hojo had forced to raise dangerously high), but this was far from something he could just shake off. Tears pricked at his eyes, forcing him to blink them away just in time to see the flames end.

She lowered her head again, trying to look sideways and find him. He didn’t waste time pulling himself back onto her head, this time clenching his legs around the bony crest of her head to keep himself in place. This she noticed, and, now alerted to it, Cloud caught her inhale. He peeked around her snout to time it, but managed to cast Blizzard again, this time placing a large block of ice between her jaws.

It was nothing she couldn’t crush after the initial shock passed, but it was all the opening Cloud needed. He yanked his sword free, letting it drop to the side (the arm would be useless anyway) and, twisting at the waist, dug his second sword into her good eye. He held on as she thrashed, digging in under her scales to get a grip. If he had been any less enhanced, he wouldn’t have had enough strength to hold himself on, and even then he only pulled it off by the skin of his teeth.

She lowered her head close to the ground, attempting to sniff instead of see. Cloud pulled his second sword free and slid down the side of her head. His right arm hung limp at his side, but he didn’t need it to finish this. He slipped under her neck and waited. When she pulled herself up, presumably to send out more flames, he stabbed into her weak spot, a joint at the armpit where there was a small gap in the scales. This was always tricky; if your angle was off, you were likely to miss the heart entirely. Injured as he was, he couldn’t bank on aim, so he settled for brute force. When he dug his sword in, he pushed deep, burying his arm up to the elbow. It was another show of his enhancements to yank his arm and sword free in time to dodge out of the dragon’s way as she flailed and screamed. Tucked against the wall as he was, he only just missed being squished in her death throes. When she stilled, there was the plaintive call of the hatchlings inside the cave.

He was in no condition to try and fight the rest of the nest, and there was no chance someone else would come quick enough to catch the hatchlings before they swarmed, small enough to maneuver in the hall where their mother could not. The first of the hatchlings had been caught under the mother’s body as she fell, and a second had almost clambered over her tail by the time Cloud got there. He kicked it back as hard as he could, sending it crashing backwards into its siblings, Cloud hissing and blinking away more tears as it jostled his arm. He had to hurry, but had just enough time to grab the mother by the tail and _pull_ , hauling her mass backwards as fast as he could. One escaped, but the rest of the hatchlings were trapped in their nest, the mother’s body blocking the exit. He couldn’t think of any other options quick enough, so Cloud hurled his sword, just barely catching the hatchling, pinning it to the mother’s side.

The hatchlings would either die or eat their way to freedom and survive (only the mako-tainted ones would do it, but he had seen cannibalism from dragons before); it didn’t much matter to him either way. He would be long gone by that time.

He tilted his head back to breathe, just breathe. He had earned a moment to himself. His hand came up to clutch the shoulder of his wounded arm, fingers digging in out of pain. When he finally got himself to move again, he pulled his sword free from the hatchling, that fell, limp and twitching, to the floor. He shoved the blade into its sheath and went around the front of the dragon to go collect the onee he had dropped, hearing multiple sighs of relief when they saw him (his good arm was toward them as he rounded the dragon, he doubted they would be relieved otherwise). He sheathed the second blade and turned to go rejoin the group.

The whoop of victory died half-delivered on Zack’s lips, quickly turning into a sharp curse. Even Tseng’s pace was quick as the group hurried toward him.

With the longest stride and the most concern, Sephiroth reached him first. He looked at the arm carefully, hand hovering around it, not daring to touch. Zack cursed again when he saw the damage up close.

“I thought you’ve been handling them since you were a child,” Sephiroth said, looking back up at him. It was concern that caused it, but his tone was sharp enough to cut, whip-like as he spoke. Cloud winced, and it wasn’t just because of his arm.

“Nibel dragons, yes,” Cloud said, voice tight with pain. He grimaced as he went on. “I didn’t go after a nest with a mother or mako dragons until I was 18. I didn’t touch a mako nest until a year before I left.”

Sephiroth was beyond infuriated. It was caused by fear and worry, Cloud knew, but he’d never seen the man aim so much anger at _him_.

“Look,” Cloud said, quickly cutting in before Sephiroth could start reaming him. “We both know Masamune wouldn’t have fit in the space and no one could take her on with just materia.”

“You have two swords. If you leant me one, this wouldn’t have been an issue.”

“But you’ve never fought one before. I only managed because I knew what to watch for.”

His tone was pleading by the end of it. It didn’t seem to have an effect on Sephiroth’s mood; if anything, the truth in his statement made him angrier as it took away his ability to argue. They stood like that in a showdown for longer than either would have expected, Cloud trying to buy his way out of Sephiroth fury with logic and doe eyes, Sephiroth unwilling to let the matter slide. The contest only ended at a _plop_ sound that was loud in the silence; large drop of blood had fallen from Cloud’s fingertips to the standing water beneath their feet.

Sephiroth sighed, but the look he gave him made Cloud certain that he wasn’t forgiven yet. He stepped nearer, still not daring to touch, but trying to find the worst of it, to see where he should start with his healing. He was grateful that his materia was mastered, as he began casting the highest level Cure spell he could.

Cloud groaned, pressing his eyelids together. His teeth clacked together as he ground them. It would be better in the long run, but the forced healing, the rapid stitching together of muscle and sinew and skin still hurt like hell. He hissed when Sephiroth continued to cast, again and again, before stepping away. There was a limit to how much Cure could heal at any given time, and it was only by pure luck that the process stopped after his skin had regrown; doing the rest of the mission with an exposed, bleeding arm would have been salt in the wound of this assignment. His skin was shiny and red, stretched thinly over the repaired muscle of his arm. It still stung to put pressure on or to make a fist, but stinging he could handle. It was good enough to manage and, with his healing rate, it would probably be good as new by the time they returned to the helicopter.

“Here,” Zack said, passing Cloud a glove; he took it, but looked at his friend in question. “If you have to handle a sword like that, the friction’ll do nasty things to your hand.”

“Thank you,” Cloud said, having not even considered that. The glove was a little loose, Zack’s hands being bigger than his own, but it would do.

With everything said and done, Cloud hazarded a glance at Sephiroth.

Yup. Still pissed.

As if this mission couldn’t get any worse.


	26. Chapter 26

The silence had changed in the wake of the dragon attack, suddenly tense. It would have made Cloud feel guiltier about the monster run in, but he didn’t really have time to dwell on it. It only took a few more minutes for them to arrive at the man-made plateau that the reactor was nestled into. Just as Cloud’s guilt fell away, so too did Sephiroth’s anger. It wasn’t the time or place for it—that was all too clear as he glanced toward Cloud, as they all glanced toward Cloud.

Cloud watched the reactor with palpable hesitance. Theoretically, he didn’t have to go in at all. The others were more than capable of doing whatever repairs had called them out here in the first place. But he knew, somewhere deep in his gut, that he would have ended up entering regardless. The reactor had a pull on him, like a magnet, like gravity. He had paused a few seconds when the building came into view, but his feet began to carry him closer without his active consent.

He was far too distracted to realize what was happening. Zack and Sephiroth exchanged a look as Cloud began walking forward, but followed him, if a few feet behind to give him some space. Before he started walking, though, Sephiroth traded a look with Tseng. It had the air of professionalism, but had a strange mix of intimidation and askance. The Turk _wanted_ more information on the matter. He would likely be expected to come back with new information. But that look was very clear; Sephiroth was asking him to hang back, but if he tried to follow, he would _make_ him stay outside. Turks didn’t take orders from SOLDIERs, not even Sephiroth, but he didn’t have very many options. With an incline of his head, Tseng came to a standstill. Sending his own nod, Sephiroth turned away, taking a few long strides to catch back up to Zack.

It didn’t matter much anyway. The bug he had planted on Zack while the SOLDIER was asleep would give him enough information.

As he walked, dragging his feet in the snow, Cloud briefly pressed a hand to his temple before running it through his hair in a nervous gesture. Gods, but that headache was throbbing. That buzzing in his head was overwhelming, and he had to fight to stay aware of his surroundings. He wasn’t quite sure what was happening anymore. Was this a poorly timed migraine? Was it from rising panic from approaching the reactor? It didn’t really matter, but it left him in a haze. He drifted into the reactor, only barely remembering to hold the door open behind him for Zack and Sephiroth.

It was exactly as he left it, albeit with a new layer of dust over everything. Stairs running up the middle, rows of pods containing what he now knew to be Hojo’s creations. His bloody scrawl deeming them all failures. He absently reached out for the nearest tank, fingers trailing over it. He rubbed his fingers together to get rid of the clinging dust, but thought better of it, reaching out to clear the observation window on the tank. He wiped his hand clean on his pants as he looked in. His fingertips pressed against the bloody declaration below the little window. The creature looked exactly the same. He remembered his moth— _Jenova_ calling them his bastard siblings before. Related after a fashion, but irredeemable, useless little disgraces.

“Zack,” Cloud called, still looking into the pod. “The dented panel against the wall of the second row. My old materia’s in there, can you get it?”

Zack and Sephiroth looked between each other. Neither was entirely sure as to what was happening anymore, couldn’t guess what was going on in Cloud’s head. There was no fondness, nor any of the shame he had shown every time they mentioned his past. Just a blank mask that was somehow much more disturbing than the nostalgia would have been.

“Uh, sure,” Zack said.

Cloud stepped away from the tank as Zack stepped forward, both making their way up the stairs. Zack watched Cloud as they went, the blond’s fingers trailing over railings and tanks as he passed. Zack frowned as he turned down the second row, exchanging a last look with Sephiroth, who was shadowing Cloud’s footsteps. Cloud’s eyes were locked on the inner door to the reactor and didn’t seem to notice that Sephiroth was following him at all.

He pulled to a sudden halt in the doorway, nearly tripping over his own feet. It took a tremendous amount of will, but he refused to look at the tank perched on the dais. The pause was only a brief stutter step before he continued, letting the door slip from his fingers absently, clearly no longer aware of Sephiroth.

The reactor was exactly as he had left it. The panels around the room were dented or scored or missing, more than one pipe gone from its place as well. The fire pit he had built was still full of ashes from the last time he used it. He entered fully and began to walk around the space, fingers trailing over everything again. The strands of vertebrae and feathers clacked gently as he touched them. Stray pieces of bone crunched underfoot. It was simple habit to alter his steps, careful of slipping on the scraps of fur scattered around the ground. He paused to nudge the piles of stolen trooper guns and SOLDIER swords with a toe before continuing on. He knew, if he allowed himself to look, he would see his cobbled together pelt-bed in front of the tank, with a neat line of human skulls at the foot of it. He didn’t dare that much yet.

Sephiroth stood in the doorway, watching Cloud’s homecoming carefully. His eyes seemed almost glazed over and he wandered idly, as if in a dream. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He came close to interrupting when Cloud froze mid-step. He screwed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth and hissing in pain, one hand coming up to clasp his head. He had touched his temple before, Sephiroth remembered, but he hadn’t seemed to be in this much pain. Something was wrong, and seemed to be getting worse. He flicked his awareness through their connection again, finding himself more firmly blocked out than ever. He knew, he _knew_ this mission would be bad for Cloud. It pulled every memory he wanted to forget to the surface, rubbing it in his face. It was only expected that he reacted some way, and things _could_ , admittedly, be going worse. He still wasn’t sure if he preferred this grimace or that blank mask, though.

When Cloud eventually dropped his hand, he gave a quick little shake of his head as if to clear it. The buzzing was changing, somehow. It stopped being one constant, insistent note, transforming into a cacophony of sounds, desperately vying to be heard over each other. It began to sound faintly like whispers, like shouts, all of it echoing between his ears.

“There’s nothing wrong with this part,” Cloud said, though he sounded distant, distracted. It faintly surprised Sephiroth—he had forgotten the mission objective in his concern. “Nothing wrong enough that it would have tripped the repair sensors, at least.”

He made his way to the ladder and climbed down to the lower level, Sephiroth following his descent. Sephiroth remembered what was down here, knew it would be possibly the hardest part to face aside from Jenova herself, but he sincerely doubted Cloud would listen to him if he tried to stop him from viewing it anyway.

Much as he did before, Cloud meandered around the space, running his fingers over everything, to try to remember, to commit to memory, to confirm it was real—Sephiroth wasn’t really sure of the why. Each panel, save the few that were missing, had “mother” written across it in Cloud’s own handwriting. There was no doubt about the scrawl’s owner now; likely from a lack of practice, Cloud’s writing had remained childish, a direct match to the graffiti. In his wanderings, more bone snapped under his feet, yet the distinctly human nature of it didn’t seem to bother Cloud.

Once they had descended, Cloud’s hand had risen to press absently at his temples, face morphing between a wince and stoicism. It didn’t seem to deter him from making his rounds through the level.

“There’s nothing wrong with the reactor,” Cloud declared, still not looking at Sephiroth. He had reached up high to touch part of the bloody repetition.

“Are you sure?” Sephiroth asked, growing more concerned. If there was no reactor problem, why _were_ they here?

“Just because no one trained me on reactors doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s an old reactor—I used to repair it often, quick enough that Shinra always thought the repair sensor was malfunctioning.” He still sounded absentminded, so, so distant.

“If there’s nothing here, we should leave,” Sephiroth said firmly.

As if in response to the words, the indistinct voices grew deafening, a sharp pulse of pain running through his head. He winced hard, shoulders curling in, one hand clutching his forehead. His face was a mask of hurt and a hiss of pain escaped his bared teeth. He stumbled right into a wall, leaning his shoulder heavily against it.

“Cloud?” Sephiroth said, reaching out one hand, taking a few steps forward on instinct. He pressed against their connection again, desperate for something, _anything_ —Cloud was suffering, that much was clear, and he wouldn’t let him _help_. Cloud said he had cut himself off to figure things out on his own, but what was there to figure out about pure, simple pain? When Sephiroth pressed against the wall Cloud had built, there was some give, but it wasn’t worth the cost. Cloud hunched further, letting out a soft cry of agony. He retreated as quick as he could.

He didn’t know what to do. There was no physical injury for him to cure. Trying to reach out to ease whatever was lancing through his head seemed to only make things worse. This was bad.

Before he could come to a conclusion about what to do, Cloud quieted, letting out a few ragged breaths before pushing himself off the wall, slowly coming back to standing.

“Cloud, what’s going on?” Sephiroth asked, coming to stand in front of his lover. He hesitated to touch him, knowing the mental contact hadn’t helped, unsure if a physical attempt would go better.

“I—I don’t know,” Cloud said, pressing a palm to his eyes for a few seconds before dropping it and looking up at Sephiroth, blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear his sight.

“We should move,” he said, gesturing with his head toward the ladder. Cloud looked weary, but he nodded.

Cloud ascended first, but Sephiroth followed quickly. When they reached the higher level, he risked touch, pressing his hand gently to Cloud’s lower back. With no outward reaction, he deemed the contact safe, and began guiding him toward the exit. He had every intention of leading them out of the reactor entirely, out of the Nibel area in fact, but Cloud balked in the doorway.

“Cloud?” Sephiroth asked, voice hushed in the quiet of the chamber.

“I have to,” he whispered, staring blankly ahead of himself toward the door.

“…to? To wha—Cloud, _no_ , you don’t,” Sephiroth answered, finally realizing what Cloud was talking about.

Cloud looked up at him with big pleading eyes, but there was something in them that didn’t sit quite right. Fear? Desperation? Guilt? Longing? Need?

“I have to,” he repeated, turning away from Sephiroth. When the taller man reached out to touch him again, he knocked the hand away. “I _have to_.” When he looked back at Sephiroth, the pleading and strange other emotion were gone. The look was a mix of hardness and dazed distance. Sephiroth’s brow furrowed at the sight.

Sephiroth didn’t immediately see what Cloud did, too busy watching the blond. He _did_ see the faint surprise that flashed before it was all smoothed over. Everything about Cloud went flat, as if his soul had briefly disconnected. He finally took it as his cue to look at Jenova himself.

Somehow, her head had been returned; it was sitting perched atop her shoulders as if it had never left. While it was an unexpected turn of events, it didn’t seem particularly alarming to him. Not enough to make Cloud shut down like that, but then again, this was bound to be the hardest part for him. The final confrontation with the mother he loved who abandoned him. All that leftover feeling of love, accompanied by the betrayal and anger and hurt. Maybe that was why he reacted how he did—it was just too much for him to handle.

“… _oh_.”

It was enough to make Sephiroth’s head whip to the side in alarm.

It had been a long time since he had heard Cloud speak with such clear adoration, such complete reverence. It was something he never thought he’d hear again.

Cloud had done what he could to prepare himself for seeing his m—Jenova again. The voices had grown louder in a deafening crescendo as he climbed the ladder, rising to an almighty shriek when he attempted to leave without looking. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but maybe it would give him some closure to see her.

Seeing her head in place took him by surprise, knocked him just a little more off guard. There she was, perfect as she had ever been, looking back down at him as she had when he lived here, the benevolent guardian. The sight itself, such a perfect copy of a memory he had tried to rid himself of time and again without success, would always have been something to overcome. The final fight to bury his fond feelings for her so he could finally turn his back on that part of his life.

It didn’t go as planned.

As soon as he looked at her, Jenova—no, _Mother_ , it passed through him like a bell toll.

 _“My son._ ”

“… _oh_ ,” had been his breathless response.

Some part of him, deep, in the back of his mind, was shrieking. She wasn’t to be trusted, didn’t he remember? She’d used him, abandoned him, made him a monster. He knew better now, he needed to turn his back to her and leave, and do so quickly.

Cloud could barely hear it. He was so overwhelmed with the simple feeling of _reunion_. It zinged through him, making every single hair stand on end. There had been too much happening at the time for him to notice, but it was clear upon its return, that Jenova had taken a large chunk of him when she left. Everything slotted into place now, that piece of him and Jenova alike. He’d grown accustomed to sharing his head with Sephiroth, but it wasn’t the same—could barely compare, really. She spread through his mind like blood through water, filling every part of him, changing everything that she touched. It left him weak at the knees.

 _“My son, my son,_ ” she crooned. “ _You’ve finally come home.”_

 _Where did you go?_ he asked, that bubble of betrayal and hurt rising up again. She shushed him gently, caressing some part of him, easing him away from the pain.

_“Hojo forced me away. I couldn’t reach you, no matter what I did. But you’re here now. We’re together again.”_

_You… didn’t want to leave?_

_“Oh,_ ” she said softly, sweetly, _“I would never abandon you, not if I had any say in the matter.”_

A knot in his chest unwound. He finally felt truly at peace, in a way he hadn’t since they’d been separated. There was still that little voice screaming for him to run, but it grew easier and easier to tune out.

Much to Jenova’s annoyance, however, he didn’t revert back to the man he had been when she left. That vicious little wildling was gone, and would stay gone for the foreseeable future, unless she did something. He remained who Shinra had made him, but, with the boundless nature of his capacity for love, she slipped right back into his heart.

His eyes fluttered shut and he let out a deep, content breath.

“Cloud?” Sephiroth called, and it was enough to make the blond physically start. He turned to look at his lover with a sheepish expression. “Is everything alright?”

An easy smile lit his lips.

“I think so,” he answered. He reached out for Sephiroth’s hand, another spark of _reunion_ running through him, as Jenova hummed in thought deep in his mind.

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed, roaming over his face for any hint that he was being less than honest, and all Cloud did was laugh.

“Come on,” he said, tugging Sephiroth’s hand gently. “The others are probably worried.”

When it was clear Sephiroth intended to follow him, he let his hand go, pulling open the door that lead to the rest of the reactor. Zack was leaning against a railing with his arms folded over his chest, staring at the door nervously. When they stepped out, he was more than a little surprised. There was no haunted look on Cloud’s face, not even one of bitter acceptance. He looked pleased and calm, smiling widely when they made eye contact.

“Apparently Shinra just wanted to waste our time,” Cloud said as he descended the stairs. “Let’s get out of here.”

He led the way down the stairs with a skip to his step. Behind his back, Sephiroth and Zack exchanged bewildered, concerned glances. Neither _wanted_ him miserable, but this carefree happiness just didn’t fit quite right. Even Tseng looked perplexed.

Cloud led the way back to the helicopter in comfortable silence. He wanted to share the cause of his joy, but he knew what the others would think. It was clear to him now that they had misjudged Jenova, that there was some sort of misunderstanding, because she was full of love and light. Her affection for him was limitless and sweet, and someone so caring couldn’t be _bad_. Sure, she had asked him to do some things that didn’t sit right with him. But she must have known something he didn’t, must have had a good reason to want Nibelheim and Kalm gone.

It would take time, he was certain, to get Zack and Sephiroth to come around, but there was no rush. He would tell them when the time was right. Now that his mother had returned, it seemed like there was nothing he couldn’t do.

The helicopter ride back was just as silent as the first had been. Cloud’s eyes had slipped shut at lift off, allowing Sephiroth and Zack to stare at him with obvious concern without his awareness. Cloud was too busy catching up with Jenova. He told her everything that had happened since she left, much like a small child excitedly telling their parent about their school day. She grew angry but consoled him when he spoke of the time in the labs. She hummed with interest when he discussed his training and new experiences with people themselves. She cooed fondly when he spoke of the joy in his friendship with Zack, of the depth of his love for Sephiroth. She did little more than respond, taking in the information, building her next plan, but she had time now. She would make this perfect.

When they touched down, Sephiroth insisted that Cloud return home to rest; Zack agreed to write the mission report and Tseng immediately drifted away to take care of his own business. Cloud let himself be led back to their apartment, holding hands when there were no witnesses, the way they usually did. When they were safely behind closed doors, Sephiroth began peeling off his shoes and armor, carefully watching as Cloud did the same. There seemed to be nothing wrong with him, but that in itself was cause for concern. He looked away, frowning at his boots as he pulled them off.

“Hey,” Cloud said gently, touching one hand to Sephiroth’s elbow. Dropping his second boot, he stood up and turned to look at Cloud, still searching for a sign of anything other than this strange happiness. He reached out and put his hands on Cloud’s shoulders, running them down the back of his arms to hold him just above the elbow.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Sephiroth asked, but it just made Cloud laugh again.

“I’m fine, really,” he said with a smile (as Jenova watched on with silent interest).

“I just… expected a different reaction,” Sephiroth explained, hoping it would be enough to spur Cloud into discussing whatever was happening with him. Instead, he got a shrug.

“I kinda did too, but I’m glad it ended up this way.”

When he looked up to see Sephiroth still watching him with worry, he gave him a fond smile and stood on his toes to kiss him briefly.

At first, Jenova couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the exchange. But when Cloud kissed him again, a third time, a fourth, a tendril of warmth curling around his stomach, it fell into place. Reunion, but a different kind. Maybe it was caused by Jenova’s return, but something in his blood sang for it, for reunion. Whatever it was that they shared in their cells that caused their connection was electric, on fire, pressing against the wall he had built between them on his own side, clawing in an attempt to reach Sephiroth. The need grew desperate, forcing him to gasp against Sephiroth’s lips. There was too much space between them, too much distance, the empty air trapped between them feeling like ice against him. The frantic need for _reunion, reunion, reunion_ filled every inch of him, blooming from each vein and string of sinew, from each individual cell. It was so intense that he didn’t pause to consider the why, didn’t notice the way Jenova stoked the fire hotter, watching with interest to see the depth of the strange new connection between them.  

Sephiroth only grew more confused as Cloud’s hands rose to cup his elbows, steering him backward until his back hit their front door. When the kisses grew more insistent, he considered pulling away, to try and press Cloud further, make another attempt at figuring out what was happening with him. When the insistent kisses grew longer, however, the concern in his brain melted. He still felt a vague, niggling doubt that Cloud was fine, but he could see no reason for him to initiate the encounter if he wasn’t alright. It hadn’t been Sephiroth’s idea, hadn’t even been on his mind, there was no way he could be pressuring Cloud into it. Maybe this was his way of seeking comfort. Maybe it was a celebration for conquering their mission, of the pure victory of coming through the ordeal in one piece. Cloud, seeming to realize that his thoughts were wandering, nipped sharply at his bottom lip, pulling him back to present. He pressed a small smile to Cloud’s lips; it was clear this was what Cloud wanted, and he was happy to oblige.

He ducked his head, hands coming to rest on Cloud’s hips while Cloud’s arms wrapped around his neck, holding him firmly in place. They only pulled away when they were breathless, and even then they didn’t go far. One of Sephiroth’s hands came up to pull the high collar of Cloud’s uniform down, beginning to mouth at his neck. His free hand dipped lower, cupping Cloud’s ass, pulling him closer. Cloud gave a breathy sigh and tilted his head back.

When the sigh turned into a quiet little moan, Sephiroth finally moved. In one quick motion, he reversed their positions, Cloud’s back pressed against the door. He took the moment to tug Cloud’s aggravating, in-the-way shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side. When Cloud smiled up at him, a faint blush on his cheeks, Sephiroth felt the last of the concern fall away. Cloud was clearly fine, he was happy, and, even if it was strange, he would take it as a victory.

With both his hands free, he reached down, both hands grabbing at Cloud’s ass this time. He lifted him up just a bit as he slid a knee between Cloud’s thighs, shifting to get the angle just right, pressing their hips together. It sent a spark through him, and it must have done the same to Cloud, because he let his head fall back against the door with a small gasp.

Sephiroth worked at his neck, pressing in familiar bruises, ones that almost always decorated Cloud’s throat after these encounters. He had a possessive streak (about a mile wide) and seeing his own marks on Cloud was as satisfying as it was a turn on. From the way Cloud consistently encouraged him, it was clear that he wasn’t alone in the sentiment. He shifted his knee a few times, pressing higher up against Cloud, who rolled his hips against Sephiroth’s. Sephiroth reached down to cup him through his pants, already half hard, fingers pressing gently.

It was enough that Cloud whispered, “Bedroom. Bedroom _please_.”

Sephiroth chuckled against his neck, but obligingly lifted Cloud up higher. The blond wrapped his legs around his waist, pressing his own kisses to Sephiroth’s neck as he carried him into the bedroom. He was set down gently on the comforter, but Sephiroth chased him, leaning in to kiss him again. He slowly pressed Cloud backward, until they were finally horizontal, one knee pressed to the bed by Cloud’s hip. He pressed his tongue against Cloud’s lips, which parted with a sigh as he reached down between them, undoing Cloud’s fly. He pushed his pants down just enough to run his fingers over his length, still trapped in his boxer briefs, the tips of his fingers ghosting along it. Cloud’s hips twitched upward, trying to find more stimulation; when Sephiroth pulled his hand away, Cloud gave a little grunt of frustration. When Sephiroth tapped at his side, he lifted his hips, undressing him in one swift motion. They laid like that for a while, kisses and touches growing more insistent, more heated the longer they were at it.

Cloud was gasping for breath when he pulled away and said, “ _You_ are wearing entirely too much clothing.” Sephiroth laughed quietly, the little puffs of breath hitting Cloud’s skin, raising the hair on the back of his neck.

He pulled away and began tugging off his jacket as he said, “At the headboard.” Cloud paused, watching him undress for a moment, before scooting backward. He took his time, if for no other reason than to watch Cloud’s eyes turn heated, his pupils slowly blowing wide.

Sephiroth crawled up over his body, pausing briefly to press a quick kiss and lick to his length on the way up (a hand on his hip to hold him in place). The look they shared when they made eye contact again was intense, but Cloud melted into a smile. His expression turned fond and he leaned up to press a firm, quick kiss to Sephiroth’s lips, which were curling upward to match.

“I love you,” Cloud said quietly, lifting one hand to ghost his fingertips across Sephiroth’s cheekbone.

“And I you,” he whispered back. It won him a dazzling smile and another kiss.

Their kisses and touches turned languid and soft, more affection than passion. It took a while for them to ramp back up to the urgency this had started with, but they felt no rush.

With their heat rekindled, Sephiroth reached between them, taking Cloud in hand. His strokes were slow but firm, moving just right, long since having learned the best ways to undo his lover. He took his time, watching as Cloud melted, panting and blushing, eyes full of love and fire as they held his own. He continued until Cloud’s eyes rolled up and slipped shut, his head digging back into the pillow in frustration.

“ _Please_ ,” he breathed. There were times when Sephiroth would have pushed, make him beg and plead until he was a desperate mess. But this wasn’t the time—that was for fucking, and somewhere along the line, this had turned into love-making.

He pressed a kiss to the corner of Cloud’s mouth as he leaned over, fishing in a nightstand drawer. When he returned, he kissed Cloud again softly. At a slight touch to his knee, Cloud spread his legs, letting Sephiroth settle between them. He gasped slightly at the cold touch of Sephiroth’s slick fingers to his entrance, but had lost himself in the kiss again before he felt a finger slip inside. He hummed deeply, nearly a purr, as he reached up and threaded his fingers through Sephiroth’s hair, keeping him where he wanted him.

They were at two fingers when they had to break away for breath. They were staring at each other, panting, when Sephiroth crooked his fingers inside of him. Cloud gasped, eyes widening. A smirk settled on Sephiroth’s face as he repeated the motion. If Cloud wasn’t breathing heavily before, he sure was now. His head dug back into the pillow again, Sephiroth taking it as an opportunity to rework the already fading love-bites he had left on Cloud earlier.

Sephiroth continued to rub that spot inside him when he added a third finger. They stayed that way for a while, partially so Sephiroth could watch Cloud fall apart, partially to be sure he was ready. He had been nearly ready to stop when Cloud groaned in frustration. He tugged at Sephiroth’s hair, hitting the small of his back with one heel.

“Come _on_.”

Sephiroth laughed lightly, pressing one final kiss to Cloud’s throat as he removed his fingers. He was pressed against his entrance when Cloud interrupted.

“Wait,” he said. He disentangled himself and rolled them over so Sephiroth was pressed against the blankets and pillows, Cloud straddling his hips. Sephiroth raised an eyebrow but made no comment when the flush on Cloud’s cheeks darkened.

The blush didn’t stop Cloud from continuing eye contact as he lined them up and slowly eased himself onto Sephiroth. Both let out faint groans, Sephiroth’s hands coming up to frame Cloud’s hips. Cloud’s palms were pressed against his chest and his head bowed gently as he caught his breath, making sure that they were fine to continue. When Cloud clenched around him and gave a lazy roll of his hips, it was clear that he wasn’t waiting to adjust anymore, but stalling because he knew exactly how much Sephiroth wanted them to start moving. He swatted lightly at Cloud’s ass, and the blond laughed brightly before beginning.

They didn’t do this often; Cloud normally preferred to be on his back, and Sephiroth was happy to oblige. But from time to time, Cloud would come at him with a single minded determination, set on riding him. When he did, it was always a sight to behold.

Just as he usually did, Cloud stared down at him, fingernails biting into his chest as he began to move. When Cloud wanted this, he usually wanted control as well. Sephiroth knew by now that Cloud would stop moving if he made any movement to thrust himself. Cloud decided their pace, how rough or gentle they would be, if they would kiss or not. They didn’t do it often, but Sephiroth was more than happy to admit that every time they did, it was incredible.

Cloud moved slowly at first, searching for the exact angle he wanted. He tightened around Sephiroth as he did—a steady, pleasant torture. When he found the right position, Sephiroth hitting that spot inside him, he let out a low moan. He picked up the pace, sure to kiss that spot with every stroke. Cloud was, by nature, a quiet lover. Sephiroth never minded; he gave enough physical cues that Sephiroth was sure the pleasure was mutual. It did, however, make it all the more enticing when he _was_ loud. It sent a shiver through him as Cloud tossed his head back and moaned again.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, before he realized he’d even opened his mouth. He’d learned early on that Cloud loved praise, so he’d let every compliment, every word of admiration drip from his lips as soon as it crossed his mind. Cloud groaned in response.

“You’re gorgeous,” he continued. “You’re beautiful, and so good, and— _Cloud_.”

Cloud had raised his head, watching Sephiroth with enough heat in his gaze to burn. They continued like that long enough that they lost track of time, wrapped in their own private world of warmth and passion and adoration. Sephiroth wasn’t sure what other words of praise he offered, but he knew he meant them.

He warned Cloud when he began to get close, and the blond sighed with relief; he had been on the edge himself for a while, just waiting for his partner to go with him. Without realizing it, Cloud reopened their connection (Jenova carefully walled herself off to avoid detection) and it became that much more intense for it. Echoes of each other’s pleasure filtered through the bond, an overwhelming press of love and affection wrapping around each. He took himself in hand, stroking quickly as the pace of his hips began to falter. It was a near thing, but Cloud came first; Sephiroth was close behind, pushed over the edge by the way Cloud tightened around him. Cloud had arched his back, his head tossed backwards as he came with a cry, his fingernails raking down the plane of Sephiroth’s stomach. When Sephiroth settled from his own aftershocks, he found Cloud watching him with clear fondness and obvious love. He offered a small smile and Cloud gave his own bright, dazzling version in response. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips before standing, going to the bathroom to clean up. Sephiroth pulled a handful of tissues from the box on the nightstand, cleaning himself before tossing them into a wastebasket.

Cloud paused in the bathroom, hands on either side of the sink, looking at his own reflection. That was… arguably the most intense thing he’d ever experienced. Sex with Sephiroth was _always_ fantastic, but this had been something on its own level. Every movement had sent shocks of lightning through him, seeming to grow closer to Sephiroth with each stroke. They were tied so close together that he wasn’t sure if the overpowering feeling of reunion had come from reopening their connection or from the orgasm itself. It didn’t matter. It felt like another missing piece of himself had fallen back into place. He felt, possibly for the first time ever, _whole_. He missed nothing, he wanted for nothing, he had everything he could have wished for. He was enveloped in affection, wrapped in love given freely from the two people that mattered most to him. This, surely, was what the Promised Land felt like.

He smiled at his own reflection and proceeded to clean up quickly, returning to bed. Sephiroth held one arm out, and Cloud tucked himself into place, curling against his side. The arm wrapped around his shoulders, Cloud’s head pillowed on his chest, their legs tangled together. He reached out for Sephiroth’s free hand and laced their fingers together, resting on Sephiroth’s stomach. He gave one content sigh before slipping into sleep.

He’d never felt happier in his life.


	27. Chapter 27

The night they returned from Nibelheim had done much to assuage Sephiroth’s concerns about the venture. He let his guard down, lulled into a false sense of security. It probably would have taken him far longer to spot the problem if it hadn’t been for Zack, who had no such reassurances.

His lieutenant came into his office during work hours—the time Cloud was most likely to be absent. As per usual, he didn’t knock on his way in, but he did poke his head inside instead of waltzing in.

“Hey, you have a minute? Can we talk?” he asked.

The difference in behavior was enough to get Sephiroth to look up. He nodded in response, closing his laptop as Zack entered the room. He shut the door behind him and went to sit across from Sephiroth, for once not flopping down into the chair.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, because it was abundantly clear that _something_ was off.

“Has Cloud seemed… weird to you, lately?” Zack asked, not even slouching down into the chair. He was uncharacteristically tense, and concern for a friend would explain it.

Sephiroth flicked through his memories, scanning for anything that was strange. Cloud was spending a little more time with their connection closed off, but he had assumed he was still just attempting to process. There was nothing that stood out.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” he said. “Has something been different?”

Zack rubbed the back of his neck.

“I mean, just small things, y’know? I guess it’s mostly just that something _feels_ wrong. It’s hard to put my finger on it.”

Sephiroth’s brow puckered as he said, “That isn’t giving me much to work with.”

“I know, I know,” Zack sighed. “He’s just… extra quiet. He isn’t paying attention, like he’s always stuck in his own head. I’m worried he’s not handling everything as well as he seems to be and is just putting up a front so we won’t worry.”

With the tip-off, Sephiroth could recall a few moments where Cloud _had_ been quiet and distant, but it wasn’t so frequent or so out of character as to be alarming.

“I’ll keep an eye out. If things get worse, we’ll handle it.”

Zack looked relieved and finally leaned back in his chair, pulling the conversation off to discuss idle topics.

Now that he was looking for it, it was clear that something _was_ wrong. As time passed, Cloud was spending more and more time hiding behind that wall of his. He barely said anything anymore, only ever really speaking when spoken to. He had to be called multiple times to grab his attention, his focus clearly pulled off, seemingly lost in a daydream. He spent increasing amounts of time by himself, either doing paperwork or training. It _was_ cause for concern. It didn’t help that about three days after they returned, a strange buzzing presence began to press against the back of Sephiroth’s mind. It never grew or faded, a constant pressure. Something about it was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

Cloud, for his part, was doing his best to be as subtle as possible. He didn’t want to worry Zack or Sephiroth, but he also knew he couldn’t tell them the truth, not yet. When he found the right way to explain everything, the words necessary to convince them that there was nothing to fear, then he would tell them. Until then, he did his best to keep things under wraps. Mother pulled his attention frequently, asking questions, attempting to get caught up on the situation on hand. He couldn’t speak with her when his connection with Sephiroth was open without outright blowing his cover, but he couldn’t close it all the time, or his lover would be certain to notice. Spending time by himself was the only other way, in conjunction with the walled off connection, to speak with Mother without a real risk of getting caught.

When Cloud was assigned a mission in the Mythril Mines, he was as excited as Zack and Sephiroth were worried. It was a chance for privacy, as well as an opportunity to show his mother what he’d learned in her absence. Zack and Sephiroth were convinced that the distance between them and Cloud would only grow if he spent a few days entirely on his own, but they couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse to change the mission roster. The company would never send anyone under a First to the Mines because of the risk of confronting the Midgar Zolom. There was, however, no need for more than one First, and Zack and Sephiroth both had their own assignments as well. They wrung promises from Cloud to call if he needed anything and offering frequent reassurances that they were there for him. He laughed them off and went on his mission.

He didn’t actively realize exactly how much of an effect Zack and Sephiroth had on him, not until they were absent. He went through the mission on autopilot, his mother pulling all of his attention. The situation reverted to what it had been, years ago. Jenova dug her fingers in deep, pulling him apart, discarding what she didn’t want or need. She cocooned him in her sweet voice, lulling him with quiet cooing, shushing his concerns as soundly as she did his independent thoughts.

When he had left, he, foolishly, still trusted her. Zack, Sephiroth, and Shinra proper were enough to force Jenova to hold back, but the second they were absent, the chance of being caught disappearing with them, she wasted no time. She used Cloud’s fondness and trust as her opening, her foot in the door. He resisted, at first. The conscience he had developed when they were apart made the process trickier and longer than she hoped for. Any mention of superiority or humans themselves as Other made him immediately balk. But the scheduled mission was four days long, she could take her time to work roundabout. It took a significant amount of time, truly cutting it fine. She succeeded with only a few hours to spare, but she managed to ease him back into that familiar old mindset.

Truly, the only reason she succeeded at all was his love for Sephiroth. It was an open wound in his defenses that she picked at over and over again, yanking it wide. She convinced him that Sephiroth was the only other one who mattered, that only he was worthy of love and affection and attention, an inalienable right born of his own superiority to humanity. If Nibelheim and Kalm were wrong, it was because they inconvenienced and upset Sephiroth. If the SOLDIERs he knew, if Zack had worth, it was because they were dear to Sephiroth. Their connection was only further evidence, for no _humans_ shared such a bond, such a thing wouldn’t even be conceivable if it involved anyone other than the two of them. They were special. Sephiroth was special. Shinra was a cesspool and it was only by some strange trick of fate that they held both his and Sephiroth’s leashes. It was ridiculous. It was _wrong_.

And he would fix it.

When he returned to Shinra, it was quitting hour. He passed through the tower, weaving between the office workers who were heading home. The tower would never empty entirely; even if it was full to brimming, he wouldn’t have changed his plans. This did, however, make things a little easier.

He was to report to Sephiroth to be debriefed on the mission; a quick affair that would take five minutes at most, before they would call the day done and return to their apartment. He rode the elevator up, his high clearance card coming in handy, but he did not stop at Sephiroth’s floor. He continued up to the top floor and exited.

The guards were changing, the skeleton crew of the graveyard shift filing into place. He was not expected, but none of the guards thought to question him as he arrived on the floor. He was a SOLDIER First, if he had a sudden need to be there, it was likely an emergency, and no guard intended to step between an enhanced, highly ranked officer and their goal. They weren’t paid enough to even consider it.

In honesty, it reflected poorly on the company that it was _this_ easy. He went to the office without being stopped until the door itself. When he told the doorman that he was there because of an emergency, he was admitted without second thought. He shook his head as he entered—Shinra arrogance would always be baffling.

“Who is—Strife? What are you doing here?”

President Shinra stood up from behind his desk, leaning over, his hands pressed to the top of it. Cloud offered his most charming smile (and if it took on a familiar, old, feral edge, well, the President didn’t know him well enough to recognize it) as he closed the door quietly behind him, crossing to the desk.

“President,” Cloud greeted, grin growing just a hair wider. Something about him didn’t sit quite right with President Shinra. Something about the way he walked was reminiscent of a stalking wolf, from his slow, confident steps to the way his strange eyes pinned him. He pulled his hands from the desk and straightened.

“What are you doing here?” President Shinra repeated, just barely turning pale. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was making his hair stand on end.

“Something I should have done _long_ ago,” he said, crooning sweetly. The President’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, but he never got the chance.

Cloud moved as quickly as his enhancements let him. He rushed forward and vaulted the desk, feet light on the top of it as he pushed off. Mindful of the guards outside the door, he was gentle as he went about snagging the President’s throat and pinning him to his own desktop. He could have snapped his neck with a flick of the wrist, but that would be too quick, too painless. The man deserved to suffer for thinking he could lord over him and Sephiroth, for daring to condemn them both to the agony of the labs. He did not deserve an easy death.

Cloud squeezed his throat, slowly crushing his trachea. Tapping into his bracer, he formed a long dagger of ice in his hand and pushed it forward slowly. He could hear the choke and gurgle the President gave, watched as blood and spittle dripped from the corner of his mouth. He pressed and pressed until he ran out of room, then shifted his grip so his palm slid against the smooth handle of the pseudo-hilt of his ice dagger, shoving it forward until the whole thing was embedded in him.

He stepped back, left entirely clean as the ice blocked the exit of the wound, blood trickling down but not spurting over him. With his dented trachea and nicked aorta, there was little the President could do. As Cloud watched on hungrily, he clawed at his throat, wheezing. It was obvious he was attempting to scream, but his damaged windpipe wouldn’t allow for more than coughs and rattles. He watched the light fade from the President’s eyes, waiting for the last moment. Before he could die, Cloud grabbed him by the throat again, forcing eye contact; he would go to the Lifestream knowing exactly who had put him there. The grin he wore this time was outright savage as he watched and listened to that last gasp. The President slumped, limp and silent, in Cloud’s grip before he was dropped unceremoniously to the desk.

When he left the office, he closed the door quietly behind him. He smiled at the guard as they exchanged a nod before walking, quietly and unsuspected, down the hallway to the elevator. He let it carry him far, far down into the basement of the building, following the same buzzing pull that Sephiroth had felt. His lover didn’t have good enough frame of reference, couldn’t place the feeling that was so, so familiar to Cloud. Hojo had brought Jenova to the tower, and he would be a poor excuse for a son if he didn’t recognize she was there.

His execution of the President was quick and clean. He bore no grudge against the guards, not even really against the other executives. He had gotten confirmation from Sephiroth enough times that the horrible things that were done to him were by the President’s order; he knew who was responsible. That was not the case for the Science Department. Sure, there were people who played no part in his own experimentation. But they were party to it, they pursued the same ends, did the same terrible things to Sephiroth—there was no innocence here.

Cloud walked into the Science Department waiting room calmly. He was greeted by the secretary, who he promptly ignored in favor of going further into the department. The secretary stood and began to protest, and he continued to ignore her, using a well-placed Gravity spell to keep the door shut behind him. In fact, he ignored the majority of the objecting department, physically moving people from his path at times.

When he came to his goal, he found himself in good luck. Hojo was standing directly in front of Mother, who was hidden in a tank. He rounded to look at Cloud, face turning in confusion.

“You aren’t scheduled to be here,” he said. He didn’t even think to back up as Cloud approached, didn’t fully register the change in demeanor, banking on Cloud’s lingering fear of him. He didn’t make another noise until he let out a gasp of surprise while Cloud grabbed him by the ponytail and slammed his face into the metal side of Mother’s tank. He repeated the process over and over again, beating the professor’s face in. He was less careful this time, didn’t flinch away from the blood that spattered back against him. He was pleased to hear Hojo still wheezing as he pinned him against the tank’s side, pulling out one of his blades and stabbing it into his stomach. He turned the blade and wrenched it slowly up, letting the warm spray coat him. There was no way he could realistically do what he intended to with the department and come out clean anyway, might as well enjoy making Hojo suffer as much as he could.

When he was certain the scientist was dead, he let the man drop. There were people shrieking in the background, workers banging on the closed door and making furious phone calls for support, but he paid them no mind. He opened the tank, a look of nothing but pure reverence on his face.  As he had so long ago, he pulled her forward and, carefully, cut her head free from her shoulders before gently resealing the tank behind him. He held his mother’s head cradled in his arm, tucked against his side. It tied up a hand, but he didn’t need more than one, not really.

He knew he had a limited amount of time, so he made the most of the minutes he had. He flickered through the room, moving as fast as he could. His blade dug into person after person, coating himself, the walls, and the floor thoroughly in gore. He let off fire spells, doing as much property damage as he did to persons. Eventually, the amount of time he was willing to risk passed, and he fled the department. He went into a back staircase and left through a fire door.

Exiting the city took some finesse, but not enough to pose serious trouble. There was no hope of going by the streets, not blood-drenched as he was. It was, however, a small thing to scale the side of a nearby building. He traveled from rooftop to rooftop, though it was occasionally slow going. More than once he had to climb glass windows, using carefully placed ice spells to freeze his hands and feet to the smooth surface in order to climb. When he reached the glass edge of the city, he dropped down and walked out, no longer caring if he was seen. Despite the obstacles, he had been moving as quickly as his body would let him. He had gone fast enough that even if someone saw him exit, it would take too long for the pieces to be put together to have an effect on him.

He hesitated just outside the gates, considering. It was, arguably, a bad idea. It might only make things worse. When he thought it over, he found he couldn’t ignore the idea. He pulled his PHS from his pocket, carefully typing out a message to Sephiroth.  As soon as he pressed send, he dropped the device into the dirt; the last thing he needed was Shinra tracking him.

He broke out into a loping run, tearing across the landscape, his mother’s head in one hand, his swords on his back, his favorite materia equipped. He didn’t bother with supplies, though they might have been helpful; he had lived off the land before, he could again. His only regret was leaving Sephiroth behind, but it would be too soon for him, he wouldn’t understand yet. He was by no means giving up on his partner, but reluctantly accepted the situation as it was. There would be time yet. The lost one would still find his way.

 

Everything seemed to happen at once. Sephiroth had been getting impatient, wondering what was holding Cloud up—he should have been in his office ten minutes ago. It was possible that there was a delay with the mission, as Cloud very rarely ran late otherwise. He had been about to call when he received an incoming call himself.

“Sephiroth speaking,” he answered.

“There’s something wrong in the Science Department!”

“That is no concern of mine.”

“There’s been an _attack_ on the Science Department! There’s blood everywhere, and fire, and—”

Sephiroth was already out of his chair when he said, “I’m on my way.”

He ran to the stairs, in too much of a hurry to wait for the elevator, PHS in hand. The dial tone pressed to his ear as he jumped down, through the empty square left in the winding staircase. He snatched railings occasionally on his way down to slow his momentum.

“Seph?” Zack answered.

“There’s an attack in the Science Department.”

He snapped his phone closed without waiting for a response. It took another minute or two of descent before he reached the basement, but it was still significantly quicker than the elevators.

As he ran into the department, he took careful stock of the situation, even as he moved to help. There was, frankly, an astonishing amount of dead bodies. The walls were caked in blood. This hadn’t been an attack, it was a _slaughter_. Without thinking, he put out the lingering fires with well-placed ice spells. By the time the last of the flames went out, Zack had arrived as well.

“Holy shit,” Zack whispered as he looked around the department.

Sephiroth nudged him gently but gave him no instructions; they weren’t needed. They moved in synch to begin finding those they could save, casting Cure after Cure. When things seemed relatively under control, he glanced toward Zack in askance. His lieutenant looked at him curiously before understanding and giving him a dismissive wave.

“I’ve got it from here,” he said, already looking back down at the scientist he was healing.

Sephiroth rose from the crouch he was in and began to inspect the remains of the department, picking his way carefully around bodies and glass and still-smoldering scraps of desk. Whoever it was clearly had a grudge; they had done a very significant amount of damage. He wondered how long it had taken for word to reach him, considering the state of the department. He thought he’d been notified quickly, but with the scale of the destruction, he was beginning to doubt that.

There was more than one person who had cause to hate the Science Department, but, with a sickening drop in his stomach, he was beginning to realize who was likely at fault.

The suspicion began when he found Hojo. Anyone who hated the department likely hated the man the most, making the grisly state of his corpse no real surprise. He had looked over the body carefully, but had been about to move on, before he felt a gut-deep pull backwards, something tugging on him like gravity. His head pounded with the strange buzzing pressure that spread throughout. He moved on instinct when he turned to the tank and looked inside.

What he saw was what made it all clear, was what made the bottom fall out of his stomach.

“No,” he whispered, touching the observation window gently.

Just because Cloud had taken her head once didn’t mean that he was necessarily responsible this time, he told himself. He tried to ignore the firm wall blocking off their connection and the implications it held. He tried to put the blond’s odd behavior since Nibelheim out of his mind. He tried to forget that the speed and extent of the destruction pointed very heavily to an enhanced perpetrator. He pretended Cloud didn’t have every right to hold a grudge against the department, against Hojo.

He didn’t realize how long he had been standing there in mute horror, his gut knowing what his mind refused to accept. 

“What’d you find?” Zack said as he came up beside him, successfully startling Sephiroth out of his reverie. He didn’t answer, his lips pressing into a firm line as he reached out and pulled the tank door open.

“Holy shit,” Zack uttered for the second time as he looked at Jenova revealed.

He didn’t get a chance to argue before Sephiroth flicked power into his bracer, causing the strange, silver body before him to burst into flames. He expected some sort of pain to filter through his mind, as it was clear he did have some sort of tie to Jenova herself. Instead, the buzzing presence in his mind just dimmed.

“You know, the camera will show that you’re the one who did it,” Zack reminded, though he wasn’t protesting.

“I don’t care,” Sephiroth said, watching her burn. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

Zack couldn’t disagree.

He also found that he couldn’t bring himself to broach the topic of Cloud. They both knew he had been different since Nibelheim. They both knew his connection to Jenova and the Science Department. They both knew who was responsible, even if they refused to admit it.

When Sephiroth’s PHS rang, he didn’t turn his eyes away from the fire before him.

“Sephiroth speaking,” he answered. For the second time that day, a frantic voice greeted him.

“There’s a problem,” the secretary said, flustered, panicking. “It’s—it’s the President.”

As he said, “I’m on my way,” there was a buzz and ding from his phone, signaling a new message. He hung up without another word, already knowing full well what must have happened to the President. Absently, he pulled up the message that had come in, before he froze solid.

 _From: Cloud_.

He stared at it long enough that Zack peeked over his shoulder to see what had happened. He drew back with a wince, looking between Sephiroth and the phone to see what would happen next. It took all of Sephiroth’s determination to open the message, despite his fear as to what it would contain.

_“Sephiroth,_

_I want to apologize. I know they’ll have you clean up my mess,_ (Sephiroth’s heart stuttered, his stomach plummeting at the confirmation) _but I didn’t know when I would get another chance at it._

_You’re a smart man; I’m sure you’ve already put together what happened. I wanted to tell you, but I knew you would take it well. We were wrong about Mother. She’s only been trying to help. She never abandoned me, Hojo forced us apart. I know you won’t believe me. I don’t know the right words to make you understand. Someday I will, and when you do understand, I’ll be waiting for you._

_I wanted to take you with me, but you would have only tried to stop me. You know as well as I do that I didn’t hurt anyone who hadn’t earned it, but you still think you have to listen to them. You don’t. They have no power over you except what you give them; you’ll realize that someday._

_I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes. You will always have a place beside me. I love you, so much more than I know how to say. I’m going to miss you so much. When you’re ready to come with me, I’ll be there. Until then, I’m going to stay out of your way; I’d ask you to do the same, but I know Shinra will send you after me, and I know you’ll listen. We’ll see each other again, and hopefully by then, you’ll see the truth that I do._

_I love you. Please, come to me soon._

_Cloud”_

Sephiroth stared at the message for longer than he realized. Something deep inside him had torn, and he felt dizzy, sick. Because Cloud was right, in a way. Shinra would send him after him. But he would go regardless of orders, even if he was ordered to stay in the tower.

He had been able to hunt Cloud before, when they just met and he was a strange wildling with a disturbing thirst for violence. But he knew him now. He loved him now. He refused to accept that the man he loved was gone. He would find a way to bring him back, come hell or high water.

“Seph?” Zack said carefully. He hadn’t realized his PHS had begun to creak dangerously in his tight grip. He put the device away.

“The call was about the President,” he said. “I’m heading up there now. Be sure that _thing_ burns down to ash. Meet me in my apartment when you’re done; we have plans to make.”

He turned and walked away before Zack could answer, his face set in a hard mask.

This was the last night he would be a part of Shinra. They may give him orders that align with his own goals, and he would be happy to play along, in order to have access to their resources. But he was facing a choice: Cloud or the company. There was really only one option.

He had never given up on an assignment given to him by Shinra. He wasn’t about to give up on one assigned to him by his heart.


	28. Chapter 28

It took longer than Sephiroth expected to return to his apartment. He had been called to the Science Department for damage control. He had been called to the President’s Office for politics.

The body hadn’t even been removed yet—not that that stopped the executives from bickering. They at least had the good sense to move themselves into an attached conference room instead of arguing directly over the still-cooling corpse. When he entered, it was chaos. Everyone was speaking over one another, some with raised voices. Scarlet and Heidegger were the two yelling. Rufus Shinra sat at the head of the table, his arms and legs crossed, but strangely silent. Speaking in his stead were the Turks, most talking amongst themselves, Tseng debating with Reeve in a way that was more professional than Scarlet and Heidegger’s argument, but just as nasty between the polite words and tone. When he opened the door, though, a hush fell over the room. He could see the tic of anger cross Rufus’s face, clearly unhappy that Sephiroth’s presence had silenced the room where his own had not.

He did not even bother to sit, saying, “Why am I here?”

“As the Head of SOLDIER, you are a necessary part of the Board of Executives, which has a decision to make,” Tseng explained, still speaking on Rufus’s behalf.

“We’re here to discuss the successor?” he asked, watching the faces around the table carefully. It was clear that Scarlet and Heidegger both had aspirations for the throne, despite any hereditary claims from Rufus. It was a fair argument, in some respects. The former President Shinra had thought himself invincible—he hadn’t even left a will behind. It had been implied over the years that Rufus would succeed him, but there were no binding documents making that official. The Turks clearly backed Rufus, and, theoretically, they should have enough political weight (and pose enough of a potential threat) to make their vote definitive. Reeve, however, backed none of the three vying for the role; he had no interest in the presidency himself, but knew full well that Rufus, Scarlet, and Heidegger were all terrible options, a view Sephiroth was inclined to agree with.

His word would be the deciding factor. If he backed Rufus, all opposition would cease; going against both the Turks and SOLDIER wasn’t exactly good for one’s health. Heidegger, as the leader of the army, likely expected Sephiroth to be in his corner, as they were forced to work together frequently. Scarlet, however, knew the extreme distaste Sephiroth had for Heidegger, and hoped it would be enough to sway him toward her own side. If he supported either Scarlet or Heidegger, the influence of the Turks would be tempered by SOLDIER’s. That would leave it as a stalemate, making whoever he didn’t support and Reeve to be the deciding votes. It should have taken him time to work this all out, but he had long since become accustomed to Shinra politics, and had the entire elevator ride from the basement to the top floor to consider the likely situation.

“Correct,” Tseng agreed. “Currently, Rufus—”

“My choice for successor is Reeve,” Sephiroth interrupted.

A brief, shocked silence passed before Reeve choked out, “Excuse me, what?”

“He didn’t even—!”

Sephiroth interrupted Scarlet this time, saying, “I’m aware that he wasn’t a presented option. I nominate him myself.”

Tseng and Rufus exchanged looks as Scarlet and Heidegger did the same.

“As I have actual work to get done, in the light of tonight’s events, I will be brief. Heidegger is as arrogant as he is incompetent, and would run the company into the ground. Scarlet’s quick temper and petty nature would have the same effect. Though Rufus, arguably, has the best claim and could likely keep Shinra afloat, he is too spoiled and pampered to put in the actual effort necessary to run the company well. He is also unnecessarily ruthless and fails to consider the health and wellbeing of anyone he isn’t fond of. I refuse to support an outright dictator.”

“Sephiroth, if you just consider—”

“Reeve has none of the ego issues present in the others and has run his department with consideration for both his subordinates and the public. He is the only Board member that I have seen put in actual effort himself to improve the company, instead of shirking all responsibility and foisting his own workload on members of his department. He has my support and my decision is final. You are free to discuss, debate, or do whatever you like until you come to a decision. As you are now aware of my position, I will be leaving to take care of my own responsibilities.”

Without another word, he turned and left the conference room. Before the door fully shut behind him, the room burst into noise.

He was fully aware that he made enemies with his decision. However, he was also no longer fully invested in the company beyond a general interest in not having the entire world descend into chaos and misery. Scarlet, Heidegger, Rufus, and the Turks could hate him as much as they wanted; it would have little effect on him in the end when he officially broke from the company.

He was also aware that meeting Zack in his apartment would seem suspiciously _not_ like departmental responsibility, but he cared little for how they interpreted it. Making plans to take action on a matter of company interest in a private, confidential space was professional enough for him, and would be for anyone who might decide to question him.

He arrived in his apartment to find the lights all on and Zack playing a game on his PHS, only the way he bounced his leg betraying the stress he was under. He looked up immediately when Sephiroth entered the room and tucked the device away with a look of relief on his face.

“How was the President’s?” he asked, watching Sephiroth come and sit on a couch.

“Political hell,” he answered. “They’re likely all infuriated with me at the moment, but it isn’t exactly my highest concern.”

“So are we sure Cloud…?”

“Unfortunately,” Sephiroth said, plucking his PHS from his pocket. He pulled up the message Cloud had sent him and passed it to Zack, who swore under his breath as he read.

“So what do we do now? We’re not gonna just… kill him, right?” Zack said, all hesitance, looking vaguely sick at the idea.

“No,” Sephiroth said firmly. “Jenova is the catalyst; it was her return that triggered Cloud’s reversion. If they can be separated again, he should come back to himself.”

“How do we separate them? He said Hojo did something?” Zack asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“We’ll need to get into Hojo’s notes, he should have the process documented _somewhere_ , though it may take a while to find. We can only hope they were digital, or weren’t caught in the fires.”

“So we figure out Hojo’s Jenova-Be-Gone, find him, get a hold of her head, destroy it, and pray?” he asked. Sephiroth frowned slightly; it sounded like flimsy plan when put that way.

“If you have any better ideas, I would love to hear them,” Sephiroth countered. Zack sat up and held his hands up innocently.

“Hey, no, that wasn’t a dig. It’s more of a plan than I thought we would have—I kinda expected us to try and tail him and wing it.”

“Hopefully we’ll learn more as we go,” Sephiroth said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. After the chaos of the evening, he could feel a headache beginning to form. Or was it a side-effect of burning Jenova? He couldn’t be sure anymore.

Zack popped to his feet, saying, “We better get started searching for those notes. What would they be filed as?”

Sephiroth climbed to his feet as well, leading the way toward the door.

“Something with a C. Specimen, Subject, Project C are all possibilities,” he said, familiar enough with Hojo’s naming schemes.

“Not exactly creative, is he?” Zack said. “ _Was_ he. Not gonna lie, that’s kinda satisfying to say.”

“I won’t be missing him either,” Sephiroth admitted, closing the door behind him.

The ride back to what was left of the Science Department passed in silence, both wrapped in concerned thoughts of and for Cloud. When they arrived, Zack, being the personable one, went to the secretary to ask for her help. Sephiroth ducked into the department proper to investigate on his own.

Even with the enlisted secretary, they spent hours digging. Hojo was more scatter-brained than they anticipated. His notes were in bits and pieces, nothing in chronological order, different sections tucked into various nooks and crannies. They found Hojo’s notes in the middle of reports from other scientists. Nothing was in any sort of order they could find. After the first few hours, the remaining secretaries and scientists had left; they admittedly had a trying day. Neither particularly needing much sleep (and fully aware that they might be sent out to look for Cloud any minute), Sephiroth and Zack continued their search.

It was very late into the night, or rather very early in the morning, when they found it. Hidden in a back corner was a safe. They had passed over it multiple times, not expecting Hojo to keep _notes_ of all things locked away. Zack had looked into it out of idle curiosity and because they were simply running out of places to look.

The safe had a combination lock on the door. Theoretically, if he had the patience, Zack would have been able to hear the soft clicking of the lock to find the correct sequence of numbers. After spending so many hours searching, however, he didn’t have it in him to wait. He dug a thumb into the safe just above the crease where the container met the door. The metal bent under the pressure, letting him push his thumb down behind the door. With the solid grip it afforded him, it was a simple matter to yank it open.

He _had_ , admittedly, been surprised to find that it did contain notes, and a lot of them. There were three thick manila folders. The tab of the top folder read “C,” the middle read “A,” and the bottom “S.” It had taken him a few blinking seconds to realize just what he had found.

“Seph!” he called, jogging back into the larger room where he’d left his friend, all three files under an arm.

“Did you find something?” Sephiroth asked, glancing up at him, still bent over a pulled-out drawer.

“Hopefully everything we need. C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he said, nudging Sephiroth with an elbow as he went by.

When they were safely in the elevator, Zack passed the three folders over.

“I wasn’t sure if the other two would matter, but I figured, better safe than sorry. They were all locked up together in a safe—they’re probably related,” he explained. Sephiroth glanced over the folder, his gaze hanging on the one labeled “S.” Last time he had found information about the experiments done to him, he had a mental breakdown, only held together by determination and Zack’s help. He wasn’t excited to learn more, but he knew his curiosity would force him to read it sooner or later. But that was for when he had time to spare on idle curiosity, and besides, it couldn’t be any worse than what he had read before.

“Who do you think ‘A’ is?” Zack asked, voicing the thought that passed through Sephiroth’s head.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. There were a few SOLDIERs whose names began with an ‘A,’ but to his knowledge, none of them had more than cursory relations with Hojo. Certainly nothing severe enough that their file belonged in a safe between his and Cloud’s.

They returned to Sephiroth’s apartment, the files handed off to Zack as Sephiroth made his way into the kitchen. It had already been a long night, and they still didn’t have time to rest with the looming threat of their eventual assignment to find Cloud. Sephiroth began making coffee, dumping in more grounds than were strictly necessary, for nothing more than the added caffeine.

“I think I’m gonna start with ‘A,’ is that alright?” Zack called from his seat on the couch.

“If you like,” he answered. Both were fully aware that Zack was more interested in Cloud’s file. But boyfriend trumped best friend, giving Sephiroth unspoken dibs. He _was_ admittedly curious about “A” and how they related to his two friends, anyway.

Long since familiar with Zack’s coffee order, he prepared both cups and brought them to the seating area, dropping to the second couch, pressed into an L-shaped configuration.

Zack watched over the top of his folder as Sephiroth gingerly picked up Cloud’s file. He was clearly hesitant to read it. He knew what horrors were in his _own_ file—he couldn’t imagine Cloud’s was much better. The fact that the man himself wasn’t there to consent to such private information being shared made everything sit heavy and uneasy with him. But he needed to know if he was going to help Cloud. He could make his apologies later, when Jenova was no longer an issue.

The file was considerably longer than he anticipated, which only made him more nervous. Just how much _happened_ in that year he was held in the labs? Zack continued to glance at him as he finally opened the folder.

He did not expect the file to start when it did. He had no idea how Cloud’s mother, one Claudia Strife (decidedly _not_ Jenova), was involved, considering Cloud seemed to have no recollection of the woman. Sephiroth, admittedly, hadn’t considered Cloud’s real mother, despite it being clear that Jenova herself wasn’t involved in his birth.

He was able to read between the lines, gleaning much of the situation. Shinra listed her pay, overall and monthly, as well as how many months she was paid. There was a copy of her confidentiality agreement, as well as her informed consent to the process, including details of what were to be done. Fetal Cloud was to be injected with Jenova cells, though the paperwork didn’t describe what those were or the potential effects. The sum paid per month was significantly higher than most wages offered in Midgar, even with inflation considered. A young woman, strapped for cash, talked into the vague experiment, likely banking on her trust in Shinra and the company’s (then sterling) reputation.

When the payment’s ceased seven months in and no further paperwork about Claudia existed, it was safe to assume that she had fled without the company’s knowledge or agreement. Whether she grew fond of the child she was carrying, nervous about the experiment, or had simply saved all the money she needed and was no longer interested in participating, he couldn’t be sure. It was, however, a logical conclusion that she had fled to Nibelheim.

Next were read-outs from the Nibelheim reactor, particularly focusing on Jenova herself and the failed experiments housed in the rows of tanks. It was all long distance maintenance, nothing detailed, mostly just steady confirmations that everything was in its proper place and maintaining stasis.

Mission reports followed, and they were forms Sephiroth recognized. They were for requisition of troopers, with mission objectives attached. There were multiples of these forms, each with a small stack of “M.I.A.” troopers attached to the back with the final report stating that contact with the team had been lost. His own signature looked up at him when he saw the forms requisitioning SOLDIERs, the first team of Thirds that had been sent out to investigate the troopers’ disappearance. This was also followed by pages of “M.I.A.” SOLDIERs.

There was the full mission report from his own first run-in with Cloud. Both his and Zack’s recountings of the events was there, as well as a secondary account of the Turk’s investigation of the area. The next stack of stapled forms covered the events at Kalm, including his capture of Cloud. There was a transcript of the interrogation, as well as the following conversations both he and Zack had with Cloud.

The paperwork turned technical as he continued. There were vital signs, results of various tests and experiments as well as the exact processes, all of which containing scientific jargon more advanced than his understanding of biology and chemistry. There were performance tests, gauging Cloud’s progress.

Though he couldn’t be sure it was what he was looking for, there was continuous reference to the application and successful use (whatever that entailed) of “A cells.” There was no description of their effect, only the record of their continuous use, even after Cloud had entered SOLDIER, hidden away in his mako injections. He could only assume that the cells were drawn from whoever the “A” folder referred to. The only other mystery was the listed use of “C cells” on another subject. Apparently they took well and seemed to have the desired result, though they had difficulty gauging the full effects, for reasons not listed.

He finished reading before Zack did, setting the folder down on the table as gingerly as he had picked it up. It crossed his mind to begin reading his own file, but it was unnecessary at the moment. He didn’t need to be distracted from the matter at hand with unrelated personal information. While he waited, he sipped at his coffee.

“Well, looks like Hojo is still as messed up as we thought he was,” Zack said, dropping the “A” file onto the table.

“What was in the file?” Sephiroth asked, draining the last of his coffee.

“Her name wasn’t listed, but apparently A has been a long time resident in the Department. Her mom was held, but apparently escaped briefly. They found her and brought her back when she was seven; she’s been here ever since. I don’t know where they even keep her, I’ve never seen her. Have you?”

“Never,” Sephiroth said, perturbed by the development. He wasn’t aware of anyone else being held long term.

Zack shrugged and continued, “She’s listed as something called either an Ancient or a Cetra; they used the words interchangeably. They have read outs of her listed next to Lifestream activity, both from nearby reactors and Mideel. There were tests of her ‘connection to the Planet,’ whatever that is. There are transcripts of what she’s said, but it’s mostly mystical gibberish. A lot of talk about spirits and energy and they keep quizzing her about something they call the ‘Promised Land.’ I couldn’t make sense of most of it, there’s other stuff in there, but that’s the most I can make out, except the part about Cloud.

“Apparently they were collecting blood samples from her and trying to fuse her cells with Cloud’s. They listed the goal as ‘supportive/enhancing’ but the results say ‘interfering/disconnect.’ That’s the only time they mention him.”

Sephiroth took in the information, though it didn’t make much more sense to him than it did to Zack. This was going to be more difficult than they thought.

“Cloud’s mother was named Claudia. She agreed to have a child implanted with Jenova cells, but fled before giving birth. We’re familiar with most of the rest, except the details on the experiments that happened in the labs. There was mention of the A cells in Cloud’s file as well, he was given them early on in his stay in the labs and continued receiving them until recently. They were mixed into his mako injections. It seems the cells from ‘A’ were what was keeping Jenova from Cloud. We need to find her or see if they still have samples stored. Administering them again seems like our best hope.”

Zack sighed and leaned back on the couch, scrubbing his hands over his face. He reached out and finished the last of his coffee before setting the mug back down on the table.

“So we find ‘A’ or the samples, find Cloud, destroy Jenova’s head, haul him back here or bring the samples with us, give them to him, and that should be it, right?” Zack said, not quite daring to sound hopeful.

“I doubt it will be so simple,” Sephiroth admitted, leaning back. “We have no idea where he went, how to track him, or what his goals are. I’d prefer not to wait for another Kalm, but I’m also not sure of how else to find him.”

He didn’t mention that, theoretically, he could know at any time. That all depended on whether or not Cloud would open their connection or not, and frankly, he didn’t see much of a reason for him to do so; they both knew it would allow Sephiroth to find him.

“Well, shit,” Zack said eloquently.

“An accurate sentiment,” Sephiroth agreed.

They both looked down at the files, hoping for inspiration, for any clue as to how to proceed.

They thought of nothing.


	29. Chapter 29

They had expected to be immediately sent out. They did _not_ expect their assignment to be a small group of terrorists. Sephiroth spent the entirety of their travel time to the reactor where the group was seen completely and utterly baffled. A SOLDIER First went AWOL, killed the President, destroyed the Science Department and most of its staff, yet they weren’t being sent out after him. It made sense, after a fashion, though he didn’t agree with it. They, admittedly, had no idea where Cloud went, where he might be headed, or his goals, which made pursuit difficult. But doing nothing about the matter seemed, well, odd.

AVALANCHE had been on Shinra’s radar for a while now. There had been rumblings of discontent that were coming to a head in the slums. There were always people who disliked Shinra, but they had never organized before. After their initial success in blowing up a reactor, they were marked as high priority targets. Sephiroth had expected to be sent out after them when they resurfaced, but these were certainly not the circumstances he’d imagined.

They had found the group scattered around the reactor. Three had been dispatched easily as they made their way to the heart of the reactor, but they had no firm number on AVALANCHE’s amount of members. When they came across the next two, they were together, and hurrying away from the core. With a nod of his head, Sephiroth sent Zack on to deal with whatever sort of explosive they planted inside; he could handle two on his own.

The man, burly and belligerent, knew how to use his gun-arm well and fought in near-perfect synch with the gloved woman. The brunette wove in and out of the way, dancing around her comrade’s gunfire in a way that spoke of a lot of time and practice. They were, admittedly, more skilled than he expected, especially since the other members of their group had gone down so easily. The woman pulled his attention, making it difficult to deal with her punches and kicks while dodging or deflecting the gunfire. While he would never trade Masamune for the world, it wasn’t geared toward close-quarters combat. It didn’t help that they had been ordered to bring _someone_ in alive for questioning. Given that these two were the ones trusted with setting the explosive and were decidedly the most dangerous of the team, they were likely the leaders and the ones Shinra would be interested in.

It took longer than expected, but once he took the woman out by whipping Masamune’s hilt into her temple, the battle was over quickly. He left the two unconscious bodies where they were and went after Zack.

His lieutenant had much of the same training he did, but bomb diffusing was a delicate operation that he had less experience with than made him comfortable. He had only just managed to disarm the bomb when Sephiroth arrived. As he approached, Zack tucked the now (mostly) harmless explosive under one arm; Shinra would be interested in its construction.

“Everything go ok on your end?” Zack asked, jogging over to his friend before they continued on their way out of the reactor.

“These two were significantly more experienced in combat than the others,” he answered. It was left unsaid that they weren’t a true challenge.

“Shinra’ll love that,” he said, shaking his head. Sephiroth shrugged; it made no difference to him.

Upon crossing the bodies again, Sephiroth lifted the man over his shoulder, using one hand to steady his wide frame. Zack mirrored him, the woman over his left shoulder, the bomb tucked into his right arm.

Sephiroth spent most of the trip back anticipating that they would immediately be sent back out, finally assigned to find Cloud, as soon as they returned, and tried to find some semblance of a plan for how he intended to actually _do_ that. Zack wondered if it was worth it to do the paperwork for this mission when they weren’t going to be staying with Shinra much longer anyway.

The two captives were dropped off in holding cells (outside of the Science Department this time, as they weren’t enhanced and didn’t require specialized cells) before Zack and Sephiroth were left to their own devices again. They reconvened their earlier meeting in Sephiroth’s apartment, hoping for miraculous inspiration on how to get their search for Cloud off the ground.

They spent the next few hours tossing out increasingly terrible (and ridiculous) ideas. They agreed to look at the camera footage from the various gates exiting Midgar. They would be able to figure out which direction Cloud went in, and though it wasn’t much, it was better than nothing. He could have turned at any point from that original direction, but they had to start somewhere. They intended to stop at nearby points of civilization and ask about anyone fitting Cloud’s description, though that wasn’t guaranteed to pan out. Making Cloud an official wanted man would be a terrible idea; there was no way anyone who approached him to bring him in would survive the encounter. They could, however, have authorities at major cities report if they saw him, while being clear that he was not to be approached. They were frustrated that, out of all Shinra’s power and resources, this was the best they could offer.

Trying to find a way to get to Subject A was even more fruitless. They had no access to anything in the Science Department that didn’t directly relate to SOLDIER. Even if they could find some sort of excuse to access her, it would be in a brief meeting. If any of her samples survived, they wouldn’t be able to acquire them.  Either they would have to break into wherever Science Department kept bodily samples, literally break in because they would have no keycard access, or break Subject A out. Doing either would put them distinctly at odds with Shinra and cost them access to the company’s resources. But even attempting to find Cloud would be pointless without Subject A’s cells.

Zack ended up slumped low on the couch, head against the back, a copy of the mission report he was supposed to fill out balanced over his face in a display of resignation. Sephiroth’s fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache forming from wracking his brain for so long with no productive output.

“I can’t believe they sent us out after terrorists when this shit is going on,” Zack grumbled. “Reactors can be replaced, people can’t, and we all know what Cloud’s track record is.”

Sephiroth sighed in frustration; he wanted to defend Cloud for the man he had become, but they both knew they weren’t dealing with that man any longer.

“The company cares more about money. The only reason they want people alive is so they can keep taking gil from them,” Sephiroth answered, sounding just as displeased as Zack was.

“I could have let it slide, but it’s been hours now, and they _still_ haven’t sent us out, or even said one word about what happened. This is beyond irresponsible.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever accused Shinra of being responsible.”

“I hate when you’re right.”

“So do I.”

They passed into silence, a longer quiet than Zack’s chatty nature normally allowed. Sephiroth had been about to comment on it, to check that his friend was feeling okay, when inspiration hit.

“AVALANCHE,” he whispered, lowering his hand, looking forward in surprise.

“What about them?” Zack said, lifting the paper up to look at Sephiroth with one open eye.

“That’s how we get Subject A,” Sephiroth said, turning to look at Zack, a first glimmer of hope in his eye. Zack removed the form from his face and sat up, looking confused.

“How do you figure _that_ will work?” he asked.

“If they break out, they can take A with them. If they can get her out of the city, we can collect her without Shinra’s knowledge,” he explained, earning a frown from Zack.

“How do we get them to agree? How do we even _talk_ to them about this? The cells and interrogation rooms are all under surveillance.”

“The cells only have video surveillance.”

“You don’t think their expressions will give anything away? Or that someone will be able to read lips?”

Sephiroth shook his head.

“I’ve seen feed from those cameras; they’re too low quality for anyone to make out what we say.

Zack still looked unconvinced.

“So we go down there and ask them to do us a favor? For some reason, I don’t really think they’re gonna go for it.”

“They will if we help them escape in exchange.”

Zack still looked _very_ unconvinced.

“How the hell are we supposed to do _that_ without getting caught?”

“The locks are electronic. It might be difficult, but it isn’t impossible to open them from a distance. It’s been a while, but they used to have me hack into various company systems to check security before I grew too busy and the responsibility was passed to the Turks. It will take some effort, but I should still be able to get the doors open without being traced.”

“I didn’t think you were that good with computers,” Zack said, looking surprised and a little baffled.

Sephiroth shrugged, saying, “It’s just another form of logic puzzle.” Zack shook his head, thinking that Sephiroth was too smart for his own good, but was unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Won’t it be weird that we’re going to talk to them in the cell instead of in the interrogation rooms?”

“As long as we’re brief, we can say that we needed clarification on something for the mission report and that it wasn’t worth the hassle of moving them from room to room over something so small.”

“Are you sure we can convince them that fast?”

“We’re offering them freedom for them to make a brief detour; I don’t see why that wouldn’t be an acceptable exchange. We already know they have high moral standards from their protests against Shinra. Once they’re aware that Subject A is being held against her will as an experimentation specimen, I expect they will be very willing to help.”

“Just so we’re clear,” Zack started, _still_ looking unconvinced, “we’re gonna go talk to AVALANCHE, tell them we’ll let them out if they smuggle out Subject A, hope they agree _and_ can pull it off, and pray Shinra assigns us to Cloud quick enough that we can meet them outside Midgar to pick her up?”

“We also need to make sure that Shinra contacts the major cities to keep a look out for Cloud.”

“Oh, is that all?”

Sephiroth frowned, and the look he gave Zack was hard.

Eventually, Zack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“All I’m saying is that this is going to be difficult to pull off.”

“It’s better than nothing.”

Zack found himself unable to disagree. He climbed to his feet.

“Come on,” he said, heading toward the door. “Let’s get this shitshow on the road.”

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, but followed his lieutenant out of the apartment.

It wasn’t like Zack’s assessment of the situation was that far off, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up:   
> Updates are unfortunately going to be slowing down from here on out. I (finally!) got a new job, so I have a lot less free time available now. I'm aiming to update either every week or every other week. I'm going to do my best to keep to that, but I can't guarantee it. What I CAN promise is that I'm not abandoning this story (even if it takes a bit to update or I publish something unrelated) so please be patient with me!  
> I also want to take this moment to give a huge thank you to everyone who has read and/or keeps up with this story, especially anyone who has left a comment. Knowing that people are reading and hearing back from you guys is absolutely my motivation to keep this going. Thank you so much, I hope you continue to enjoy the story!!


	30. Chapter 30

The elevator ride down to the holding cells was tense and quiet, which wasn’t something Zack’s outgoing nature usually allowed for. While it made the ride uncomfortable, Sephiroth was relieved to know that Zack fully understood the severity of the situation at hand.

They had descended twenty floors when Zack asked, “Do you know what you’ll say to them?”

Sephiroth frowned for a moment before shrugging.

“Whatever I have to.”

Zack snorted and looked away; it wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but he knew he wouldn’t be getting anything else. He wasn’t content, but he let them lapse back into that silence for the rest of the ride.

Once they reached their floor, Sephiroth set out at a brisk pace, his stride long enough that a shorter man would have had to jog to keep up. As he was every time Sephiroth got this focused, Zack was grateful for his own long legs. That jogging would have really ruined any intimidation factor the two had as a set.

Zack was faintly surprised to see that there were no guards posted at the cells. He was even more surprised at the distinct lack of Turk presence, as high profile captives usually warranted both. For the first time, Zack was glad for Cloud’s dramatic exit; everyone was so focused on his bloody escape that they stopped looking for what was right under their noses.

Without a word, Sephiroth swiped open the single cell, and walked in with Zack at his heels.

“Shinra,” the jailed man growled. “About time you showed up.”

“We have a very limited amount of time to speak with you, so I will be brief, and I recommend you listen well,” Sephiroth started. He was about to continue when he was plowed over.

“If you think we’re—”

“We have mutual interests,” Sephiroth said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the man’s bitter start. The brunette laid her hand on his intact arm, silencing him despite his scowl. “You have no reason as of yet to trust me, so I don’t fully expect for you to take this as seriously as you should.

“You want to escape. We want you to take a captive with you on your way out,” Sephiroth explained. The man opened his mouth to speak again, disbelief writ large across his face, but Sephiroth held one hand up to ask for silence. “There is a woman being held by the Science Department on the 67th floor. She is being held against her will and used as an experiment subject. Free her and take her with you as you leave. We will meet with you outside Midgar at the Sector 7 exit within one hour of your escape.

“We will unlock your cell doors remotely, along with any other doors necessary and give you floor access from any elevator you might use. We will also cover your escape by ‘pursing’ you, though we will not arrest you. Keep in mind that we will not recapture you at this point, as it would undo any work we put in to free you. If you attempt to leave without taking the captive with you, we will prevent your escape. Do we have an agreement?”

The man and woman looked at each other. He looked wary and supremely unhappy, if the scowl on his face was anything to go by. Her mouth twisted in an expression of hesitance before she shrugged.

“We don’t have much choice, do we?” the woman asked, turning back to face the SOLDIERs.

“Of course you do,” Sephiroth admitted, “though none of your other options have any real possibility of success.”

“You take more than one hour to meet us outside the city and we’ll be gone. Not even a minute over,” the man threatened. Sephiroth was unfazed, but didn’t argue; it was better to make the stranger feel like he had won something.

That didn’t mean he had any intent of acknowledging it.

“You are looking for a young woman. We will unlock her door, but she will answer to Subject A. Be sure you collect the correct person; if you attempt to exit without her, our bargain is void.” Zack nudged Sephiroth and tapped his wrist to remind him of their need for haste, giving one glance back at the door. “We are out of time. Do you understand our terms?”

The man opened his mouth again, but the brunette put one restraining hand on his shoulder and talked over him.

“Yes. When can we expect to leave?” she asked.

“Before the end of the day. You will be able to hear the lock switch off. Wait a few seconds before going to the door. The Turks may come to question you before we can stage your escape.”

Sephiroth paused until he was given a nod from both parties and, ignoring the gun-armed man’s clear distaste and short temper, spun to leave without another word.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Zack said, “One hour? How are we supposed to meet them outside the city in one _hour_? We aren’t even sure Shinra will assign us that quickly.”

Sephiroth shrugged, saying, “If they linger any longer, they risk actually being caught. If Shinra takes too long, we will assign ourselves to their capture. They are high-priority targets and their escape would constitute enough of an emergency to make our decision to act without assignment valid. It isn’t as if we have any other missions at the moment.”

He said the last sentence with a bitter twist. He still had yet to receive a mission assignment to pursue Cloud. After being in Shinra as long as he had, he was very familiar with the way red tape could grind things to a near-halt. That didn’t mean it didn’t wear on his last nerve when bureaucracy put lives at risk.

Zack, for his part, spent the return trip to Sephiroth’s apartment in thought, trying to figure out what he could do to help. Sephiroth appreciated the peace that was a side-effect of his distraction, but Zack was left more irritated for all his consideration: he had come up with nothing. Frowning, he followed Sephiroth into his office, dropping into the chair across from Sephiroth’s own behind the desk. He was about to ask if Sephiroth had any inspiration on the matter when he was passed his spare laptop. He looked at Sephiroth in confusion, but the man was too busy booting up his own computer.

“I’m going to start finding my way back into the security system, but I already have an access code for the camera feed. Keep an eye on it and let me know if anything happens.”

If it were anyone else, Zack would have bristled at the casually delivered order. But Sephiroth was admittedly his general, and he knew full well that most of the man’s socialization occurred when he was leading armies. Friends didn’t usually command friends, but Sephiroth would always be an exception.

“This is going to be boring as all hell, isn’t it,” Zack said, and it wasn’t a question.

“Likely,” Sephiroth agreed. “You can map out nearby locations Cloud may visit or target, if it gets too mind-numbing. Just don’t get so wrapped up in it that you can’t multitask.”

Zack left out a breath of relief. Guard duty had taught him how to be watchful while zoning out; it was how he intended to get through watching the camera feed. Just because he could do it didn’t mean he wasn’t glad to not have to. He pulled up the most detailed map of the surrounding area that Shinra had on file, tucked onto a shared hard drive that he had been given clearance to use ages ago. By the time he went to grab his hard copy from the office printer, Sephiroth was already tapping away at his keyboard, entirely focused. He snatched a red pen and dropped into his seat. It only took a moment to bring up the surveillance feed and Zack gave it a once-over before turning his attention to the map.

After Wutai, Zack knew his way around maps. He knew what areas invading forces would strike—what kinds of towns, which ports, which supply lines. He knew what geographical areas to avoid while with a large force, as well as which ones worked well for small teams. They were totally different from the landscapes defending armies would attempt to hold and which ones they would have success with. The areas defensive forces would hold onto with their last breath were also the ones attackers would focus on.

He knew his way around maps, but he was trained for how to handle them during war, or in the small missions Shinra sent them on since the war ended. He could make some educated guesses about what areas Cloud would avoid. His travel patterns would likely be predictable: find the path that would make pursuit as difficult as possible while still allowing passage for a singular person.

What he had no clue on was Cloud’s attack pattern, largely because he had no idea what his friend’s goals were. Mindless slaughter? Rampant terror? Undermining Shinra? Each cause would lead him to strike at a different location. The best he could do was mark all of them and go through them one by one with Sephiroth, using their combined knowledge of war and Cloud himself to narrow down the most likely targets. He didn’t like how much room for error there was, but these were the circumstances. He would just have to deal with it.

He hoped Sephiroth was having more luck than he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and is kinda short! Writer's block made writing this like pulling teeth. Hopefully it won't take me so long to manage the next chapter!


	31. Chapter 31

Though Sephiroth was having more luck than Zack was, it was by a small margin. He was fully aware that he was out of practice with hacking and that technology had continued to advance in the meantime, but he didn’t expect to struggle as much as he did. It would have been a smarting blow to his ego if anyone else knew, but  Zack was the only other one present, and he was both too focused on his own work to notice and entirely illiterate at with complex computer functions. Still, it stung to admit how much longer it had taken than it should have, even if he was only admitting it to himself.

By the time he navigated his way through the necessary systems, careful to leave no trace behind him, and wrestled open the door locks, Zack had finished pouring over his maps and was watching the camera feed with a slightly glazed look to his eye. Sephiroth had worked backwards, starting to unlock the doors AVALANCHE would need last and ending with the door to their cell. It wasn’t how he would have preferred to do it, as there was the risk of the unlocked doors being noticed before they were used. Still, it was better that the doors were open too long than to have AVALANCHE held up at a doorway where they could be cornered and recaptured.

Sephiroth turned his eyes from his own laptop to Zack’s as he undid the final lock, just barely catching the way Zack’s eyes refocused as AVALANCHE looked up at their door. The captives shared a look as they waited, as recommended, in case the lock had been disengaged by entering Turks. When the door didn’t budge, the woman nodded her head toward it. The man nodded his agreement and both climbed to their feet, the man adjusting his gun-arm and the woman tugging her gloves into place in case of trouble.

As soon as they started to move, Sephiroth began pulling up other camera feeds to follow their progress through the building. He wished fervently that he could have given them a map or at least been able to give them verbal directions to Subject A’s cell, but it simply hadn’t been feasible. All he could do was watch, wait, and hope.

The security cameras had no audio, and silence laid thick across the room as Zack and Sephiroth watched in a hush that neither would admit was influenced by nerves. They, similarly, would not admit that they had approximately zero faith that AVALANCHE would actually try, much less succeed, at their plan, so when the man slapped the elevator button for floor 67, both let out an audible sigh of relief. They glanced at each other as they noticed the sound of their rush of breath and a brief but glowing smile flickered across Zack’s face. They returned their eyes to the surveillance footage with a little more hope blooming in their chests.

Zack had little faith that a group whose trademark was explosions would succeed in stealth, but Sephiroth knew better. Though AVALANCHE’s exits were always loud, they had ghosted their way into every reactor whose existence they ended. The man’s gun-arm was little use when sneaking was required, but he was an attentive look-out and had perfect timing. He peeked around corners and through doorways, each time silently motioning the woman forward, who expertly dispatched the guards whose backs were always turned by the time she reached them. They were deftly knocked unconscious, the man following behind to catch their bodies and ease them to floor so the impact wouldn’t blow their cover.

Their caution made their progress slower than Sephiroth would have liked, especially since he was well aware that he and Zack could have travelled further much quicker with an equal amount of stealth, but he bit back his complaints, acknowledging that AVALANCHE was so far succeeding. Though their slow pace made both SOLDIER Firsts nervous by the time they reached the 67th floor, they _did_ get that far, and that was what truly mattered.

Having arrived at the floor in question, AVALANCHE moved quicker after realizing that there were no guards in place. There were a few lab rooms occupied, but the experiments underway kept all the occupants of those rooms busy, preventing them from being a true concern. It took a few tries as the duo buzzed open cell after cell, all of which being empty or occupied by a monster which they had to quickly shut the door on, but they eventually found the cell holding a young woman.

The SOLDIERs watched in silent hope as the surviving AVALANCHE members glanced between themselves before stepping into the cell and shutting it behind them. This room, like the others thus far, had no audio, and the camera quality was poor enough that it was impossible to read lips. Still, it was clear that the man and woman spoke to the young lady, who answered but remained wary, judging by her posture. They had no way of knowing from the feed what words were exchanged, but they counted it as a win when the brunette hurried off with them. Their already slow progress was slowed even more by their addition. The girl was wearing a bland outfit that was deeply familiar to Sephiroth, who had spent his childhood in a matching ensemble. His mind could fill in the blanks left by the camera’s poor quality; he knew the white clothes were as rough and starchy and uncomfortable as they were plain. He didn’t have to look to know she was barefooted. There were a dozen reasons why she slowed them, from her hesitance to her lack of recent exposure to the outside world to her bare feet, but the reasons didn’t matter. What _was_ important was that a quick glance at another feed showed that the trail of unconscious bodies AVALANCHE had left behind them was discovered.

Sephiroth knew that, had this been a mission he was leading, he would have known not to leave the way he entered for that exact reason. He was, quite frankly, amazed that AVALANCHE had enough experience to think the way he did. Instead of returning to the elevator they used to ascend, they took the time to search out the emergency staircase tucked in the corner of the floor—a sight that made both Zack and Sephiroth release a relieved breath they hadn’t realized they were holding. The three descended quickly, the man taking the stairs two at a time, the women moving light and quick enough to keep pace. They were a little over halfway down when they stopped; Subject A had drifted further and further behind the AVALANCHE members until she had apparently called for their attention. A brief discussion was held, which Zack and Sephiroth weren’t privy to, and ended with what seemed to be a disagreement between the man and woman. The woman ignored the man, who threw his hands up in exasperation as she passed him, climbing the stairs back up to Subject A. She turned her back to the young woman and bent at the knees, allowing Subject A to climb onto her back. Sephiroth hummed in understanding a few seconds before Zack put together that the girl’s feet must have been torn up from the rough surface of the metal stairs. He similarly didn’t understand at first why the man didn’t carry Subject A considering how clear it was that he was much more muscular. After a few more moments, however, he realized that the man was built for strength while the woman was built for endurance, as she easily kept pace with her partner as they continued their descent.

They had just passed the 21st floor when a warning alarm was rung, a shrill bell filling the entirety of Shinra Tower. Sephiroth had only just succeeded in closing everything they had open relating to AVLANCHE’s escape when his phone began to buzz.

Wisely, his help was requested through text, as a phone call would have been almost impossible to hear over the alarm. He was notified of their escaping “captives,” a notification he had opened and closed while climbing to his feet, quietly relieved that they were formally assigned to the matter, and so quickly at that. Tucking his PHS away, he snatched up Masamune as Zack stood and grabbed the Buster Sword, both making their way from the apartment in silence, Zack pausing briefly to tuck the maps he had marked into his pocket.

The SOLDIERs made their way to the elevator, glad that their assignment notification hadn’t given them enough specifics that it would be suspicious that they didn’t take the emergency staircase themselves. They would have been capable of descending in an almost freefall, dropping through the square space between the wrapped stairs, catching the occasional railing to slow their fall just enough to be safe. It would have easily put them on the ground floor in time to head off their escapees, which would have been problematic, but the message they received said nothing about the staircase being the group’s escape route.

In the privacy of their slowly descending elevator, Zack said, “Think they’ll make it out of the building before we get there?”

Sephiroth answered, “They were making good time as it was; with the added incentive of the alarm, I expect they’ll be well out of the way by the time we reach the ground floor.”

“Should we go right away to meet them outside Sector 7?” Zack asked, foot tapping in what could have been impatience, but what Sephiroth knew to be a nervous tic.

“No,” he answered, not even pausing to consider. “I doubt anyone would suspect our involvement, but we should avoid anything that might hint at it. We’ll check the exits of a few other sectors first so no one can argue that we knew where they were headed.”

“We can’t check too many, we only have an hour to meet them, and I don’t doubt for a second that they’d leave the minute our hour has passed,” Zack said, glancing at his general, who was watching the light backing the numbers on the elevator marking the floors they passed.

“The last reactor they hit was in Sector 5. We’ll start in that sector, stop by the exit to Sector 6, and then meet with them. If anyone asks, it was luck that we decided to go through the ascending sector numbers.”

Zack made a small noise of acknowledgement before falling silent, joining Sephiroth in watching the backlight of the elevator numbers pass. It was testament to the amount of time they spent working together that Sephiroth recognized his silence as a signal that Zack had fallen into work mode instead of an out of character lapse in his chatty nature.

As anyone would expect, Zack fell in step behind Sephiroth as they exited the elevator. The general walked out into the gathered groups of troopers and their commanders and ran on autopilot as he demanded updates and information that was entirely unnecessary to him. After a gesture from Sephiroth, Zack peeled off to go ask for details from other officers. The two used the moment to stall, collecting facts they already knew as slowly and in as much detail as possible, giving AVALANCHE and Subject A as much time as possible to escape. After what was, to Sephiroth’s estimate, the seventeenth minute mark, he called Zack back over, declared that they had enough information, and left the building after insisting that the troopers and other SOLDIERs were unnecessary and they would recapture the escapees alone.

Assured that their “runaways” had enough time to flee and that they wouldn’t be followed, they set out to Sector 5 to kill time and misdirect anyone who might, eventually, ask questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp I'm gonna go ahead and apologize again guys, there's a bunch of reasons why I haven't been able to update lately, but this is still late as hell which I'm super sorry for. I'm hoping I'll be able to update again soon, but if not, I do want to promise that there's no way in hell I'm giving up on this story and you can 1000% expect more updates, even if they take a while. Thank you all for your patience, it means so much!!!


	32. Chapter 32

While misdirection was necessary, it was also both tedious and bordering on painful. They made quick work arriving to the exit gate from Sector 5. They could have taken a train, car, motorcycle—anything with an engine, really. But this killed more time, allowing AVALANCHE and Subject A more time to escape. They declined transportation when they left, citing that going by foot would allow them to look through the streets on their way to the gate. They did no such thing. Honestly, they started at a stroll, their primary concern being the safe escape of their “runaways.” It was their intention to continue at a slow pace the entire way, but the tension between them quickened their pace subconsciously.

Neither could tell you who started increasing the length and speed of their strides or if they started at the same time, but both Zack and Sephiroth were thoroughly distracted. They certainly didn’t dally by searching through side streets; they didn’t even bother glancing down the streets they passed. Both were two wrapped in their concerns, focus pulled entirely inward.

Sephiroth couldn’t tear his thoughts away from Cloud. As long as this mission was a success, they (theoretically) had their cure; they just had to find Cloud. Zack brought marked up maps of the surrounding areas, but Sephiroth’s precise memory didn’t need the visual reminder. He listed off surrounding towns and villages, different geographic areas, determined to use this time to find a more detailed plan than they already had. He focused on it as if he hadn’t spent, arguably far too much, time considering this conundrum and had only a little to show for it.

Though Cloud was certainly a primary concern for Zack, his thoughts in this moment lingered on AVALANCHE and Subject A. Would AVALANCHE return to the city to continue their work? Would they begin working on the scattered reactor towns, like Gongaga, like Nibelheim had once been? Would they want to come with him and Sephiroth? AVALANCHE was certainly a problem, but Subject A was arguably a bigger one. They had no way to draw blood and who knew if they could find some work around involving her hair or something to introduce her cells back into Cloud’s system. Their best hope was to talk her into coming with them, but would she agree? What would they have to say to convince her? If she did, she would slow them down considerably; the grueling pace they set on missions was only an option for the enhanced, and though Subject A had clearly been under Hojo’s “care,” he doubted the professor had enhanced her just to keep her squirreled away in a cell, doing nothing. The questions circled around and around in his head like a whirlpool, giving him a throbbing headache by the time they reached Sector 5’s exit gate.

They didn’t even pause outside the gate, knowing full well that the people they were searching for weren’t there. They exchanged a glance, each pulling back just enough from their thoughts. Sephiroth nodded his head in the direction of Sector 6 and raised an eyebrow. It was vague, and had they spent less time together, Zack would have had to ask. But they’d gone on countless missions together, even without considering the Wutai War itself; they had long since learned how to work in sync. Zack nodded his agreement and the two took off running. Even a SOLDIER Second would have failed to keep up with them, their pace too quick and the distance too long for anyone else. However, it didn’t faze, much less distract, either of them. They lapsed back into silence, falling back into their thoughts.

They breezed past the exit gate to Sector 6, once again not even pausing to look around. They continued on to Sector 7, both aware that between talking to the troopers and SOLDIERs and their walk through the city streets, they were either already out of time or very, very near to the end of their hour, depending on what time exactly AVALANCHE considered the start of this mission.

When it came down to it, neither Zack nor Sephiroth knew which it was. When they arrived at the gate, it was to see AVALANCHE and Subject A in the distance, having already left. Either they had run out of time or AVALANCHE decided to leave without waiting the full hour; either was a distinct possibility. Without discussing it, both changed their course and made a beeline to the trio, who didn’t even notice their approach until they could hear feet hitting the ground behind them. The man looked ready to bolt when he realized, but the woman stopped, grabbing his arm to pull him up short. Subject A noticed them stop and whispered a thank you to the gods, bracing her hands on her knees to try and catch her breath, despite the fact that they had only been moving at a light jog. Living most of your life in a cell _would_ limit one’s ability to keep themselves in shape.

“So you finally decided to show,” the man ground out, folding his arms over his chest as Zack and Sephiroth came to a stop in front of him. Zack’s brows bunched and he opened his mouth to argue that the trio had left before the hour was over, but Sephiroth stopped him with a look. Zack bit back his words, but didn’t look happy about it. The gun-armed man looked disdainfully amused, which was certainly irritating, but the way the woman’s eyes narrowed, looking between them with a distinct focus was more concerning.

“We took the liberty of misdirecting Shinra to buy you time,” Sephiroth explained. Zack, personally, didn’t think they owed an explanation to people that (probably) hadn’t even kept their word, but he kept his mouth shut. He did, however, take more satisfaction than he should have from the way the man scowled, clearly refusing to thank them out of pure stubbornness.

“That was a good idea; we appreciate it,” the brunette said, discreetly elbowing the man in the side.

“Now that we’re safe from Shinra’s eyes and ears, we have much to discuss,” Sephiroth said. “Still, as a safety precaution, I recommend we get out of the open.”

“How do we know you aren’t just trying to stall us so Shinra can get their hands on us again?” the man challenged.

Sephiroth tried to stay him again, but this time Zack ignored him, saying in a tone that made it clear what he thought of the mule-headed man’s intelligence, “That doesn’t even make _sense_. If we wanted you captured, we wouldn’t have broken you out. There’s no world where we have enough time to create more work for ourselves.”

The man’s upper lip curled back as Zack spoke, but as he opened his mouth to counter, the brunette said, “If you’re so busy, why _did_ you help, and why are you out here with us?”

“Those are questions I would be happy to answer as soon as we have some cover,” Sephiroth said, gesturing to an outcropping of boulders perched atop the would-be cliff that dropped off into the basin that surrounded Midgar.

“Not much cover,” the man grumbled, but he was elbowed in the side again for his trouble, and neither SOLDIER bothered to address it.

Subject A just groaned, not seeming to completely have caught her breath.

The outcropping had multiple levels of large rocks, and the entire group climbed into the small structure, each finding their own boulder to claim. Subject A sat on the lowest, her elbows on her knees and head hanging down as she continued to struggle for breath. Zack went to sit next to her out of concern, but the second he moved toward her, the brunette sat exactly where he was going to. He blinked in surprise, but the look in her eye made it clear that the move had been intentional. The gun-armed man sat on Subject A’s other side; they may have trusted the SOLDIERs enough to take advantage of their willingness to help, but that trust didn’t extend very far. Zack shouldn’t have been so surprised that people who warred for the health of the planet would immediately want to take a human experimentation subject into their care. He found he couldn’t really argue with their stance, either, so he sat at the brunette’s side, Sephiroth seated to his left. With their little circle formed, all eyes turned to Sephiroth—even Subject A peeked up from between her bangs.

“Giving you all relevant information as to why we were willing to help you escape would involve an extended story, which will be shared if you’re interested. Otherwise, I will give you the abridged version, but I would prefer if we began with introductions. Referring to you two as AVALANCHE is cumbersome, and,” Sephiroth said, turning to Subject A, “I refuse to address you as Hojo would.”

The male member of AVALANCHE looked ready to pick another fight until Sephiroth finished his sentence, when both members of the group looked at the young woman with a mixture of curiosity and pity. Sephiroth knew full well that, by this point in her life, Subject A was more than familiar with those looks. All the scientists looked at her with curiosity, and the rare visitor or sympathetic researcher would have only given her pity. Those looks rolled off Subject A like water from an umbrella, her entire focus turning to Sephiroth as she sat up straighter. Sephiroth knew his face was schooled into careful blankness, but still Subject A’s look could only be described as searching. He gave away nothing, yet the woman didn’t look away. Eventually she sat up all the way and regarded him with a lingering tilt to her head, but she had clearly reached some sort of understanding, though Sephiroth found he couldn’t guess what it was.

“My name is Aeris,” she said, in a voice that sounded like bells and ringing steel at the same time. There was a lightness, an openness to her that Sephiroth thought the labs would have crushed, but there was also a sense of overwhelming strength, of endurance. It was written into the calmness of her voice, the fearlessness of her expression, the shape of her shoulders that refused to curl, the line of her back that refused to bow. Sephiroth knew exactly what sort of hell her life had been, and maybe that helped him reach an understanding of her in return. He was not a man easily impressed, but she had won his respect with four simple words and her sheer presence. It took a certain sort of resilience to survive the labs and come out on the other side unbroken—he knew that better than anyone.

“You don’t have to tell them anything,” the man told Aeris, voice near a whip-crack in its speed and intensity. Her eyes never left Sephiroth’s, but the corners of her lips tugged upwards.

“I know,” was all she had left to say.

Sephiroth wasn’t the only one looking at her with respect. Zack realized quickly that he had made too many assumptions. He hadn’t met Sephiroth immediately after he had been released to the public, but he had been there to help him adjust to society, to see him shake off the last effects of the labs, even if they left a deep imprint. The only real frame of reference he had for what leaving the labs was like was in Cloud, but his position hadn’t been quite the same as either Aeris or Sephiroth’s, both of whom had been valued assets, albeit for different reasons. Too much time, effort, and money had been funneled into them to risk truly breaking them.

Cloud had no such considerations, even knowing what they did now, having read Hojo’s file on him. It was true that Cloud was in a unique position, considering the treatment his mother had undergone, considering the way Jenova had raised him. There was no one in the world like him, but he was still a spare part. It was clear that Hojo had no intention of wrecking him entirely for that exact reason, but there was a replacement. Sephiroth, in Hojo’s eyes, had been a success. He might not have the connection to Jenova that Cloud did, but that also meant Jenova had no claim on his loyalty. All Sephiroth had was Shinra. Cloud was unique, but an unknown. Sephiroth was reliable. From his notes, it was clear that Hojo considered Cloud an unexpected bonus. He could push the boundaries as far as he liked, knowing that he had formed his plans without Cloud in the picture. If Cloud ceased to function, he lost nothing but an opportunity he hadn’t counted on. Zack, for one, was convinced that was a large part of the draw for Hojo. He had free rein, he could torment and test and ruin Cloud, break him until he was little more than a collection of parts that would no longer align, and it wouldn’t affect his plans at all. No one would even question him.

Sephiroth and Aeris’s time in the labs was science colored with sadism; Cloud’s was sadism only vaguely tinted with science.

Zack remembered all too well the early days when Cloud had been released from the labs and expected the same level of sheer brokenness from Aeris. He knew the nature of their time in Hojo’s “care” was different, but Aeris’s composure and strength far exceeded even his most ideal expectations.

It didn’t help that her eyes were the clearest green he had ever seen, and that her tousled hair framed her face both unintentionally and perfectly, and that the upturn on her lips made something inside him flutter for too many reasons for him to keep them straight.

Zack paused when he realized exactly what had passed through him in that moment, and with the utmost sincerity, arguably the most heartfelt he’d ever been, he thought, “… _fuck_.”

He was infinitely grateful that the members of AVALANCHE spoke up before he could really realize just how far in over his head he was.

“My name is Tifa,” the brunette said, giving Zack a distraction that he would be thankful for long after the conversation was over. “And this is—no, stop being stubborn, alright?” she shot to the man, who had attempted to speak over her. “This is Barret.”

Barret looked distinctly displeased with this turn of events.

“You said something about answers, Shinra,” Barrett demanded, trying to save face even though he hadn’t lost any.

Sephiroth knew it was petty, but he couldn’t resist breezily adding, “My name is Sephiroth, since apparently the introductions aren’t done.” They all knew that Barrett was fully aware of his name, and judging by the way Barret’s scowl deepened, they also all knew that the introduction itself was a dig.

Zack almost groaned. One day, _one day_ , Sephiroth would learn how to be diplomatic.

“This is Zack Fair,” Sephiroth added, gesturing to his lieutenant, who gave a brief smile and wave. “You haven’t said if you would prefer the long or the short version.”

The other three all spoke at once.

“Short,” Barret said.

“Long,” Aeris added.

“Long,” Tifa agreed. She shrugged when Barret turned to look at her with something like betrayal in his face that she hadn’t automatically agreed with him.

Sephiroth and Zack didn’t have to look at each other before Zack spoke, despite the way the other three’s eyes had been on Sephiroth. More than once, one of the trio’s eyes strayed to Sephiroth who refused to look back at them. He focused on the horizon, putting his focus on letting Zack’s words pass over him without really hearing them. He followed the way his tone rose and dipped, the cadence and tempo of his syllables, but he ignored the meaning of every word Zack uttered by sheer force of will—a trick he had learned as a child in the labs. He was already painfully aware of what had happened to bring them to this moment; he didn’t need the reminder of what he had lost.

Zack didn’t start at the beginning; he started with what was most harmless and what they already knew. He said they were looking for SOLDIER First Class Cloud Strife, a name they were already familiar with from all the pomp and circumstance of his induction to the SOLDIER program. He backtracked slowly, beginning with the labs and working toward the icy reactor high above what was once Nibelheim. He didn’t give more details that were necessary for Tifa and Barret to have at least a vague idea of the horrors of the lab, but from the glance he risked toward Aeris, he could see writ large on her face that she didn’t need the details to know well enough what happened to Cloud over that long year.

Only once that was over did Zack finally go to the beginning of everything, as far as he understood it. Cloud had hated discussing his childhood, and they never even had to discuss the matter for both Zack and Sephiroth to know Jenova was a forbidden subject. He mentioned the things that were harmless—hunting and gathering, tanning hides, the feel of a strong gust of icy wind on his face and slowly melting snow in his hair. The few things he could still feel nostalgic about, that weren’t entirely tainted with Jenova.

Though Zack’s outline was vague, it grew as detailed as he dared when he covered the missing troopers and SOLDIERs and villagers, the burning of Nibelheim, the razing of Kalm. Part of the reason Zack was explaining things was so that Sephiroth wouldn’t have to relive everything, that was absolutely true. They didn’t have to discuss it for both to grasp that fact, but there was an unspoken understanding between them that Zack simply spoke better. Sephiroth was well spoken in that he was concise and clear, but how to phrase things tactfully, how to say things to elicit the desired emotion from his audience was something that was simply beyond him. Zack had to strike a fine balance with his explanation, and he was careful about every word that passed his lips. He needed his current listeners to feel sympathetic enough to want to help Cloud while also understanding the danger he posed to the world at large if he wasn’t stopped, one way or another. He offered them their plan to cure Cloud to give them hope (and to give himself hope), but left it heavily implied that they would do what was necessary if it came down to it.

It wasn’t difficult to gauge their reactions. Barret was easily the most expressive, having difficulty keeping the emotion off his face. He wore his shock as obviously as he did his disapproval and concern. Zack didn’t fully understand why Tifa looked so, so hurt by the recollection of Nibelheim, but he saw the way she hardened, the iron determination on her face. There was a softness to Aeris’s face the entire time, a bone-deep sympathy curbed only by the sharpness to her eyes that hinted at a will stronger than even what Tifa was showing, arguably second only to Sephiroth.

They were all concerned in their own way. Barret saw Cloud as a threat that had to be dealt with, and it was clear that he wouldn’t trust that Zack and Sephiroth had handled the matter unless he saw it with his own two eyes. That sharpness showed that Aeris was fully aware of how big a threat Cloud was, but everything from the tilt of her mouth to the curve of her shoulders exposed her bone-deep desire to help.

Tifa was conflicted. She had been there, the day Zack and Sephiroth arrived to deal with the disappearances. She had offered help guiding them up to the reactor as she had when they first visited, but she never knew how that ended. For months beforehand, she had been considering leaving Nibelheim for Midgar, feeling that she had outgrown her little village, refusing to settle for small-town life when there was so much adventure out there, so much more she could _do_. The plan had formed in her head as soon as she heard about the SOLDIERs arriving. She had only delayed as long as she did out of concern over the disappearances, but now that the General and his lieutenant had arrived, the matter would clearly be resolved. The hubbub of their arrival provided the exact cover she needed, as she knew full well that her father would never permit her to leave Nibelheim. While the village was distracted with the SOLDIERs, she stole her father’s truck and drove away, eagerly putting the town in her rearview mirror.

She regretted that decision painfully now.

She had written to her father, but never gotten a response; she assumed that he was ignoring her because he was still angry about her leaving. She never considered that he was— _dead._ She didn’t want to think about it, wanted to hold out hope that maybe he survived, but Zack’s continued explanation dashed that quickly. All survivors had been brought back to Midgar, and had her father been in the city, he would have found her; he would have known her address from her letters. She felt an overwhelming sense of grief, but Zack, who narrowed his eyes from the look on her face, plowed on without stopping. Tifa stepped on that feeling of loss, grinding it beneath her heel. There would be a time for it later, when she had time and privacy, when she wasn’t being told about a rampant mass murderer.

When Zack began his tale, Tifa had felt horror and what might have been sympathy, what might have been pity for the boy from the labs. Then the story turned to Nibelheim, turned to the current predicament, and though she would never admit it, Tifa started lying to herself. She told herself that she needed to see this through because the whole point of AVALANCHE had been to help save the planet and she’d be turning her back on that ideal if she let Cloud Strife roam free. She told herself that it didn’t matter if it ended with shared cells or blood, that she just needed to see it resolved. She told herself that she didn’t hope for it to end in blood, that she wasn’t chasing this strange boy to get her revenge, that she didn’t want to be the one who had his blood on her hands.

Some part of her knew it was a lie, but that was easy to ignore.

As Zack finished his story, he knew exactly where Barret and Aeris stood, but couldn’t quite puzzle out Tifa. He knew there was more to it, but he saw the determination on her face, and that was good enough for him in that moment. She would help, and that was truly all he needed from her. Besides, if she came with them, he would have plenty of time to figure out just what was behind that look on her face.

There was an uneasy beat of quiet after Zack finished his recounting where Sephiroth hadn’t yet realized that Zack had fallen silent. There was a second beat where Sephiroth forcibly hauled his awareness back to present and looked back at the people surrounding him, as all eyes had somehow returned to him.

“We know Cloud was headed southeast of here. We believe he’s headed toward the Mythril Mines to pass through the mountain range, where he will have access to Fort Condor and Junon. Our aim is to catch up to him in the mines, because we will have no idea which way he will turn once he leaves the mountains. Junon will give him access to the Western Continent and Wutai and Fort Condor is on the way to Mideel. The Western Continent has Nibelheim, which may be a goal for obvious reasons, and Cosmo Canyon for the rumored connection it has to the Lifestream. One can reach the Lifestream itself from an outpouring in Mideel. Either possibility is reasonable, but Junon is to the west and Fort Condor to the east. Losing him in the mountains would severely damage our odds of catching him quickly.”

Sephiroth looked around at the others as he spoke, each watching him with rapt attention. Zack’s eyebrows were raised at first, until a small smile settled onto his lips. The maps in his pocket outlined an almost identical plan.

“Should we fail to catch him in the mines, Zack and I will be able to take advantage of Shinra resources, but only if we are not seen in your company. We will be able to excuse our sudden departure with a few loopholes,” Sephiroth was never gladder that he was able to assign himself and Zack to missions in times of crisis, “but once they realize we aided your escape and we are working together, we will become Shinra targets as well. That will not prevent us from succeeding in our mission, but it will make things significantly more difficult. I cannot stress enough that we need to intercept Cloud before he escapes the mountains. Are you all willing to work with us?”

Aeris was the first to answer with a light, “Yes.” Her voice rang of bells and steel again, of sharpness barely encased in softness.

“Yes,” Tifa said, but her eyes and tone were dark, sharp and glinting with danger in a way that made Barret glance at her.

“I can’t trust you two not to fuck it up,” Barret said, folding his arms over his chest. Sephiroth bit back a sigh, knowing that his attitude and belligerence were sure to grind on his last nerve.

A heavy silence hung for a few seconds, everyone now agreed, bound together in a way none of them were fully comfortable with, reluctant to break this tenuous respite and begin on their new journey.

In a way that was entirely in character, to the point Sephiroth immediately thought he should have expected it, Zack popped to his feet and clapped his hands together.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he said, a friendly smile on his face that seemed open, but Sephiroth was familiar enough with to know it was also forced. “These rocks are uncomfortable and we’re losing daylight.”

Sephiroth heard Barret complaining about “fucking Shinra” trying to take the lead, but it felt distant, his attention pulled elsewhere. No one would ever accuse him of being able to read people, but he had fought often enough, seen enough bloodshed for alarm bells to ring in his head at the sight of the only thinly buried danger that lingered on Tifa’s face. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, had no idea what put it there and how to remove it, but it cemented into his mind that though Barret was brusque and loud and combative, Tifa was the one to watch. The way she presented herself was mild but stern, pleasant but razor-edged. Barret may be a hurricane, but Tifa was the calm before the storm. She was on their side for now, but Sephiroth was sure that there was some hang up, that somewhere along the line, their goals differed dramatically. He could trust her for now—after a fashion. Something written into every line of him recognized that at some point, they would be pitted against each other, and that he couldn’t afford to lose.

He was staring hard at Tifa, watching her back as she followed Zack, whose arm was tossed over Barret’s shoulders as the larger man grumbled and tried to elbow Zack, who was grinning widely, in a way only Sephiroth had seen often enough to know was strained.

He had focused in enough on the pinpoint that was Tifa that he was nearly startled when Aeris approached and laid a hand on his arm. He blinked at her, unmoving as his brain tried to figure out how in the world he had lost focus on his surroundings enough that an untrained woman nearly snuck up on him. The moment should have stretched, the silence should have turned uncomfortable, but it didn’t. Aeris smiled at him instead and something about it unlocked his joints. He slid from the rock he was perched on and fell in step next to Aeris as they trailed after the others.

It took longer than he was proud of to realize what about that smile had affected him.

She smiled like Cloud.

Just as Cloud was, Aeris looked like she should be filled with an innocence that was absent. They had both seen too much, suffered too much, and the strength left in the aftermath was stitched into every line of their body. Her eyes were wide like Cloud’s and they turned soft at the edges the way Cloud’s did. Aeris was more liberal with that softness than Cloud ever was, saving it only for Sephiroth and Zack. He couldn’t think of a way to describe it, but the image of a flower growing between cracks in concrete was what lingered in his mind. Something beautiful, something hopeful clawing its way into the sunshine, enduring what it never should have had to, refusing to give up and being rewarded by light and warmth that had seemed so unreachable. Something sweet that couldn’t be crushed, that made the world around it just that much brighter.

He did his best to shake the image out of his head as well as the feeling it left behind that he wasn’t eloquent enough to describe, but then Aeris glanced up at him. She smiled a little and nudged him with her elbow, a friendly gesture that no one but Zack or Cloud had ever dared. He blinked at her, knowing that his surprise was clear on his face but not able to stop it.

And she laughed.

He knew immediately that it was different, that this was a throw-away sound for her, something that she was liberal with and was a common occurrence. But this too sounded like Cloud, like the private laugh he only gave when they were alone together. Mirth wrapped in feather-down, radiating warmth. It brought up images of himself and Cloud, the moment after a spar, trading jokes only they understood, tangled together in bed with early morning sunshine streaming in the windows. It struck deep, right to the heart of him, and he knew this spelled trouble.

Aeris and Cloud were different in a wide variety of ways, this he knew from the brief amount of time he had known her. There was no way to mistake one for the other. But the little similarities were the problem, were what choked him in that moment. It would hurt to be reminded of the best of Cloud while hunting him, knowing that _his_ Cloud wasn’t even there right now. It would hurt, but he would kill to keep those reminders. They would never let him forget what he was fighting for, what he was missing, or what was on the line. They wouldn’t let him forget his Cloud.

He didn’t intend to lapse into silence the way he did after her laugh, but the look on her face held no judgement. There was curiosity, but so much patience. She didn’t understand— _yet_. And something about her expression made it clear that she fully intended to at some point, but that she didn’t intend to push. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, waiting for some response from him, but not rushing him either.

He wanted to give her something that would be an equal trade for the gift she didn’t even know she gave him. When a slow smile spread over her face and she turned forward, he wasn’t sure what she had seen that satisfied that curiosity.

He hadn’t realized, but she was more than capable of seeing the way his face had softened. She didn’t know why or what caused it, but it was enough for her to know that there was something more behind the icy steel Sephiroth presented to the world.

Though they didn’t fully realize what they had exchanged, what each one had given the other, it was enough for them both.


	33. Chapter 33

They all balanced each other out in a way neither Zack nor Sephiroth expected.

That was to say Barret, Tifa, and Aeris did. Though they knew that Aeris had only been around AVALANCHE an hour before she was introduced to Zack and Sephiroth, they somehow seemed to form a perfect trio.

The SOLDIERs failed to consider that their synchronicity kept them separate, a duo and a trio respectively. Zack and Sephiroth knew each other in a way that ran deep in both, and though the connection between Tifa and Barret wasn’t quite as deep, didn’t let one predict the other with eerie accuracy, it was still a strong bond. The SOLDIERs were tied together in a way that was obvious (and daunting).

Aeris, Barret, and Tifa fit strangely perfectly. When one of the three was at a polar opposite from another, the third bridged the gap. Barret picked fights at the smallest things, Tifa couldn’t be forced from her silence, and Aeris was cooperative but took no shit from anyone. Aeris was constantly trying to engage the SOLDIERs, Barret gave only insults and insolence, and Tifa spoke to them as often as was necessary and polite. Barret broke his streak of spiteful attitude to ask about Shinra and gather information, saying that, “only idiots don’t learn everything they can about the enemy.” Tifa agreed, after a fashion. She paid rapt attention whenever the SOLDIERs spoke about the company, its army, and its sins, but asked no questions herself out of fear of what would happen, what would change if they found out she had been that girl who guided them at Nibelheim. Aeris—Aeris made it very clear she didn’t want to hear a word. She had had more than her fill of Shinra and had no intention of thinking about it more than she had to. Any time the subject was broached, she immediately went to the SOLDIER who wasn’t speaking, dragging them into conversation with barely-covered distress so clear in her eyes that neither could help but humor her.

Though the trio had found some semblance of balance, Aeris didn’t seem content to leave their party divided. It was clear that Tifa and Barret were tolerating the SOLDIERs presence because their goals aligned but that they were unlikely to go past tolerance. Somehow, though she had been alone in a cell and kept from society, Aeris had the most social grace of them all. She recognized the interest both SOLDIERs had in her and responded to each in kind.

Zack was used to fleeting crushes and puppy-love; he didn’t really take himself seriously when he recognized his feelings for Aeris. Though the feelings were intense, he was used to them fading quickly. He adamantly refused to acknowledge that the reason those romances cut off were _him_ , not just that his feelings dissipated quickly. In his romantic history, he was always too much or not enough. Too energetic to tolerate for long periods, not serious enough, too passionate, his feelings in general could be so intense they were overwhelming to be around. But at the same time, too busy, too many friends taking up the little time left, always being called away on missions, couldn’t be reliable upon to be available, seemingly not invested enough. Both too romantic and not romantic enough. Those weren’t all things he could control, but they pushed people away, time and again. They were fine traits in a friend, but a boyfriend? Apparently just not a good fit.

So when he caught himself flirting, not having even meant to, he decided firmly that that was off-limits. No one in this group knew how long they’d be stuck with one another. He didn’t want an awkward division between them if they got together and then broke up, and he certainly didn’t want her remaining in a relationship that made her unhappy just to keep the peace.

He had resolved to give it up, but Aeris had not.

She flirted _back_ once he started it, and then did it again, and again, and Zack didn’t even know when he started returning the favor. It wasn’t until he caught Sephiroth giving him a knowing glance over Aeris’s head, one that was familiar, as was the amusement written in the way his cheek tilted up though his mouth remained still, Sephiroth’s smile-without-a-smile. Zack had seen both of those before, and when he stopped to gape, finally realizing what was happening, the corner of Sephiroth’s mouth turned up in a smirk, blowing out a sharp breath of amusement through his nose, before walking ahead. Aeris looked between them in askance, and it was all Zack could do to keep himself from blushing, which was not something he was prone to doing.

Zack couldn’t believe that he’d gone from swearing off flirting with Aeris to unknowingly flirting back in just a few days.

Sephiroth, having noticed all of this happening, well aware of his friend’s behavior when romantically interested in someone, decided the best way he could help would be to leave them alone. He was never emotionally inclined, had little understanding of romance outside of his own relationship (involving two arguably emotionally-wrecked individuals), and wouldn’t even dream of trying to be a “wing-man” (he’d make it crash and burn in a second if he tried).

Though Aeris was clearly receptive of Zack’s advances, though she was intent on spending time with Tifa and Barret, she still found time for Sephiroth. He found that even when she _wasn’t_ speaking to him, he couldn’t help picking apart the similarities and differences she had from Cloud. He told himself it was because it was a puzzle and he had little else to do, marching along at a painfully slow pace for the sake of the unenhanced majority of their party. He refused to acknowledge that it was also because he missed Cloud desperately and needed a reminder of him to keep his heart from clenching painfully. He focused as close as he could on the _differences_ , so he would feel less guilty about recognizing the similarities. The same-and-different list he was building in his head likely wasn’t a healthy way to cope with the situation, but he had grown accustomed to leaning on Cloud when he needed to cope, and didn’t that just put him in a bind.

Aeris smiled and laughed more freely, though those mannerisms matched Cloud’s. She gestured with her hands more and spoke louder than Cloud did among friends, but quieter than he did with the other SOLDIERs. They wielded the same dry, biting sarcasm and they had the same twinkle in their eyes as they did. Aeris sat on her hands when seated, but Cloud’s were always fidgeting in his lap. They both bounced their right leg when tense. She prayed, he refused to even consider anything beyond humanity, afraid of what might happen to his mind if he did. Zack had been able to rile Cloud up until their words matched with equally playful barbs and someone usually took a mock-punch, if not a tackle. Zack had been gentler with Aeris, until she offered a joking jab on the same level as Cloud’s had been. Their teasing rose to the level Sephiroth had come to expect from Zack and Cloud, but she only ever slapped his arm and laughed, him keeping his hands to himself out of respect and fear of hurting someone unenhanced accidently.

They both talked in the same voice in the quiet of the night and early morning—not a whisper, but not conversational. That was when Aeris spoke to him the most, the twilight and daybreaking hours. Like him, Aeris seemed to need less sleep than the average person, and she sought out his company when the others went to bed, and again when she woke before the rest of their group.

Cloud and Aeris had the same penchant for nightmares, but Sephiroth didn’t know how to comfort Aeris, or even if he should. Sephiroth, who took guard for the majority of the night, needing little sleep to carry him through the day, could always hear when Aeris woke with a start, with a gasp, with a whispered, “no!” At first, she shared a tent with Tifa, but she woke the fighter with her nightmares. Tifa’s concern grated on her (the way concern grated on Cloud at first), and she asked questions that she didn’t realize were invasive. Aeris said she stopped sharing the tent so she wouldn’t bother Tifa, but Sephiroth knew full well it was more to escape her.

She would wake from her nightmares, jolting up in her sleep roll to see Sephiroth’s silhouette , framed in the light of the dying embers from their fire. She would wait until her breathing evened out, then go to join him, sitting either across from him or at his side, depending on whether or not she could tolerate someone looking at her (he knew that feeling, a product of being stared at and prodded and watched for years). They talked about many things, but often talked about not much of anything. Though Sephiroth was not one for extended conversation, Aeris made it easy, somehow. He wasn’t sure if it was because of her resemblance to Cloud or because she was simply that good a conversationalist.  

One night, Aeris woke and came to sit across from him, something strange in her eye. There was a hurt there that he could only guess came from the nightmare and the focus of a hunter on prey. Neither were expressions he associated with Aeris, and some part of him tensed.

Sometimes Cloud woke up with that bone-deep hurt, but the look of a hunter had only ever been a sign of Jenova.

“What am I to you?” she asked, that sharp focus and the nightmare making her voice a rasp, tight in a way that spoke clearly of anger.

If Sephiroth could do nothing else, he could see a trap when he saw one.

“I… would not be able to put that into words correctly,” he answered. He knew he was not good at conversation. He knew that these sensitive conversations were where he was most likely to put his foot in his mouth. He knew his limits, and this was beyond them.

“Try,” she demanded.

Should have seen that one coming.

“Speaking is not my forte. Particularly not speaking with tact. I am likely to upset you without intending to.”

“I can handle being upset. I want to know.”

She was still authoritative, still focused, but she softened at the edges. He was not one to admit weakness, no matter how small, and the fact that he considered her and her feelings, that he made that concession at all instead of plowing ahead without caring about the consequences, was telling.

She had come to him for a fight—they both knew that. In a way, it said a lot about their relationship that she acted on the desire at all. She was familiar with the desire to bite back, to hurt as she was hurt; the want was an inalienable part of the labs. She was also used to biting her tongue. She knew that lashing out, however small, would shock those who were indifferent, who had stopped seeing her as human to tolerate their work, and that shock was liable to make them avoid her as a means of avoiding their guilt. Snapping only made the sadists happier. She learned quickly to hides the thorns deep in her words, in her tone and in her gestures, so deep that the scientists wouldn’t even know if she had insulted them or not. She’d made an art out of it.

She had long since learned not to pick a fight with the scientists, but she was safe to pick a fight with Sephiroth. Though she was hurting, and by proxy angry, she knew that Sephiroth was safe, that he wouldn’t lay a hand on her to hurt, no matter what she said, even if something inside her kept her from taking it too far.

But the dream brought the matter of what she was to Sephiroth too close to the surface. She had spent all her life under surveillance, she knew very well what it felt like to have eyes on her. The glances she sneaked showed her little; his expression was flat, his eyes analyzing, and it was a look she had seen thousands of times on dozens of different researchers. As Hojo and the others in his department failed to mind their words around her, so used to treating her as inhuman, she had known from a young age that Project S was Sephiroth and that he was like her, stuck in a lab somewhere, as alone as she was. It was the only reason she tolerated those looks from him for the days they had been around each other; he didn’t consider her inhuman. He had shown himself to be generally expressionless and she had seen that look of consideration, of focus cross his face when he and Zack discussed their plans to catch Cloud, different tactics and methods. He didn’t mean it the way the scientists did, but it was hard to keep them apart sometimes.

Especially when she just woke up, dreaming of screaming in those labs, pulled apart and put back together and isolated and helpless. She usually sought Sephiroth out because she knew he had been in her position, that he could sympathize. But then he’d focus in again and it made her skin crawl. It was true that she had approached him with a spark of anger without him giving her that look at all yet.

But she was never one to hold onto anger long, even in the worst situations. That rage could burn bright at times, but it faded before long, and in this case, was doused quickly. She recognized that she shouldn’t have snapped at Sephiroth, that he hadn’t really done anything wrong. She recognized his attempts to make peace as best he could, despite her pressing the matter. That attempt snuffed out her fury more thoroughly than anything else could have.

That didn’t change the fact that he had an answer she needed, and it would do neither of them any good to avoid the topic, letting it molder between them. If she knew the truth, in the future she could stamp out that initial burst of anger and avoid conversations like this at all. There was an apology hanging from her lips, but they had a discussion to have first. She didn’t regret it or feel guilty; there was nothing she could do to fix the past, but she had every intention of fixing the matter in the future. No sense in dwelling, especially since Sephiroth seemed more concerned for her sake than hurt.

However, when he hesitated, she did raise an eyebrow.

He sighed and tipped his head forward, looking at an empty spot of grass, trying to think of the best way to convey what Aeris needed from him. When he looked up again, absently brushing his bangs from his eye, he had a plan—he just didn’t know if it was a good one.

“You remind me of him. Of Cloud.”

He said it as if that was all that needed to be said on the matter.

When she raised her other eyebrow expectantly, the corner of his mouth twitched down.

“You share some mannerisms.”

Once again he thought that was it.

The look on Aeris’s face made it clear that it wasn’t.

He turned his gaze down to the fire’s remnants so he wouldn’t have to look at her.

“I am… it helps. To have reminders of him. I had no intention of making you uncomfortable, and I will avoid looking at you unless we are in conversation from now on.”

“What was he to you?” she asked. When he glanced up, he saw a careful seriousness written on her face. Somehow, she knew this was a push, that he might refuse to answer, and she didn’t seem bothered by that possibility. She knew this wasn’t something for him to broach lightly, but she also wanted the truth.

“He was… I don’t know the right word,” he admitted, looking back to the fire. “But we love each other. Or at least we did.”

The way he said it made it clear that the past tense was certainly not from his end of things.

The silence stretched, so he looked back up at Aeris. When he did, she smiled.

“Out of all the answers you could have given, I think I like this one the best,” she said.

When his brows bunched, she shrugged.

“Being stared at is a little too Hojo, you know?” she said, and when his face immediately fell, she waved him off. “No, I know it’s different. It doesn’t really bother me, just when I have nightmares about him. I’m sorry for taking that out on you, by the way.”

“I wasn’t offended,” he said, the confusion on his face making it clear that he hadn’t seen anything wrong with her words. It made her wonder about his own socialization, and the conclusions she drew weren’t something she was happy with.

“I’m glad,” she answered. “I know that the Cloud we’ll meet isn’t the one that you care enough about to chase at the risk of losing pretty much everything, but I’d like to meet your Cloud someday.”

Sephiroth blinked at that. “Your Cloud.” It was something he’d only ever heard in his head, or jokingly from Zack or Cloud himself. She smiled again, but it faded quickly.

“I know I’m not really very helpful, and I’ll be in the way in a fight, but I’m glad I can help this way. It’s important to remember what you’re fighting for.”

Aeris and Sephiroth looked at each other with matching, even expressions, but an understanding passed between them, which was a greater balm for their relationship than anything else could have been.

After a beat, a (familiar) mischievous spark came to Aeris’s eye, “We’ll be even if you make breakfast and do all the dishes this morning.”

Sephiroth rolled his eyes but agreed, feeling lighter than he had in longer than he cared to know.


	34. Chapter 34

 

Sephiroth (and Zack, despite the lieutenant’s denial) found travelling with this group to be almost unbearable. It wasn’t the company, not really; they both liked Aeris and there was a mutual understanding between them and AVALANCHE. It was more the snail’s pace they were forced to. Neither Zack nor Sephiroth had much experience travelling with the unenhanced, much less by foot. When they were accompanied by troopers, they travelled by some sort of vehicle. After arrival, they usually either didn’t have very far left to go or separated from what was essentially dead weight to them. Neither could remember the last time they’d marched with anyone other than SOLDIERs. Both had come to expect running, or at least jogging, for the entire span of time that the sun was up, resting only when it was dark. It wasn’t even unheard of for them to carry on during the night, pausing for only about 5 hours of sleep, by virtue of the mako glow of their eyes vastly improving their dark vision.

Their travelling companions couldn’t jog long, much less run. Above all, Aeris, whose life in the labs without the constant training Sephiroth had received leaving her largely out of shape, slowed them to a crawl. Sephiroth had half a mind to have Zack and himself carry the others to increase their pace, but he knew there was no chance of Barret allowing himself to be carried. It was wildly infuriating.

What Sephiroth had expected to be a two to three day journey spanned over a week, and that was before they reached their first major hiccup. Sephiroth had led them directly to the marshes between the plains and the mines. He had crossed them many times on his own. Zack, though always accompanied by at least one other SOLDIER, had also made the trek on his own.

The other three balked the instant they realized their intended path.

“You two know that if we die here, we won’t be able to stop that monster, right?” Barret sniped. Sephiroth, who had long since become irritated by their pace, had to grind his teeth to keep his sharp words on his tongue. It was a struggle to tolerate more stalling, and the insult to Cloud did nothing for his temper.

Zack, knowing full well that Sephiroth was reaching the end of his rope, wrapped a hand around his bicep, both as a comforting gesture and a restraint.

“It’ll be gross, but I don’t see why we can’t just cross,” Aeris said, looking between the rest of her companions, knowing she was missing something.

“The Midgar Zoloms,” Tifa explained, crossing her arms and falling in beside Barret, presenting a unified front against the SOLDIERs. Aeris had to bite back her own sigh of irritation; she thought they were beyond these stand offs. “They’re huge snakes that live in the marshes; they’re too fast to outrun and trying to fight them is suicide.”

“For the average person, yes,” Sephiroth said, and Zack could watch his jaw muscle twitch with temper. Not a good sign. “Zack and I have both crossed many times with no issue.”

“Well in case you forgot, you’ve got three average people with you,” Barret shot and Zack squeezed Sephiroth’s arm in warning. The general snorted in derision but looked away so he wouldn’t make matters worse.

“We can cover you,” Zack suggested. “We know how to handle the Zoloms; we’ll kill any that find us. We’d have to go way out of our way to find the chocobos we’d need to outrun them, and we don’t really have the time to waste.”

“We aren’t exactly comfortable putting our lives in your hands,” Tifa said, doing her best to be diplomatic, though it was clear this was wearing on her nerves as much as it was Sephiroth’s.

“Sooner or later, you’ll have to trust us to have your back in a fight. Wouldn’t it be better to let us prove ourselves here instead of against Cloud?” Zack said, still doing his best at peacemaking.

It clearly didn’t work on either Barret or Tifa, as they rolled their eyes in synch.

“Cloud’s one man,” Tifa answered, cutting Barret off to prevent any excessive rudeness. “Not exactly the same threat as a bunch of three-story snakes.”

Sephiroth huffed a laugh that was pure disdain, a sneer molding to his lips. Zack’s eyes flickered to him, saw the look and sighed. He gave Sephiroth’s arm a little push, and with one backward glance, he stalked away from the conversation before he could strain it any more. Tifa and Barret already didn’t take kindly to that last gesture.

“Listen, I know the comparison doesn’t sound good, but Sephiroth and I have fought both. I’d take a dozen Zoloms before Cloud any day,” Zack explained, looking between them with a seriousness neither had really seen from him before.

“Exaggerating isn’t going to get you anywhere,” Barret said, and Zack sighed.

“Have either of you seen Cloud fight before?” When both shook their heads, he continued, “Have you seen Sephiroth fight before?”

“Some footage once or twice,” Tifa admitted.

“Footage that looked staged,” Barret clarified.

This was getting them nowhere.

“Cloud is Sephiroth’s equal, at least,” Zack said, earnest as he could be, determined to get his point across. “I’ve only ever seen them spar, but if I’m being completely honest with you, if it really came down to it, if both were serious, my money wouldn’t be on Sephiroth.”

Barret, Tifa, and Aeris all glanced to Sephiroth just in time to see him tense for a moment, but then relax. They all knew he heard the comment, and he wasn’t refuting it.

“I need you all to take Cloud seriously, because if you don’t, you won’t make it through the fight. So I’m going to suggest a compromise,” he said, training his eyes on the remaining three individually before continuing. “Let’s go to the edge of the marshes. Sephiroth will go far enough out that you can still see him but are a safe distance away. A Zolom will come and he’ll fight it. You’ll be far enough away that you can run if it goes south, since the Zoloms can’t go very far on land. If he kills it by himself, which he will, we keep going through the marshes, and you let the two of us worry about safety. And, hopefully, you’ll reconsider your stance on how much you need to worry about Cloud. Deal?”

Aeris nodded readily, Tifa took a moment before also nodding, and Barret scowled, folded his arms over his chest, and inclined his head. Zack took that to also be agreement.

“You ready?” Zack called over his shoulder to Sephiroth, who he knew had overheard the entire conversation, even with the distance between them.

Without acknowledgement, Sephiroth walked wordlessly into the swamp. Zack gestured their group a few feet closer to be sure they could watch, while Sephiroth stopped just far enough that they could still make out what was happening.

The moment stretched as they waited, the trio’s eyes trained on Sephiroth, who had unsheathed Masamune, its tip trailing toward the ground, the man not bothering with a ready position. Zack, who had better eyesight and knew what he was looking for, followed the progress of a Zolom approaching, the telltale shadow under the waterline the only sign of its advance.

The beast hauled its huge body from the murk, slowly pulling itself up to full height, fangs dripping poison from its open mouth as it hissed. Sephiroth still hadn’t entered a ready stance, but he turned his head slightly to the side.

The trio had no clue what he was doing, but the two SOLDIERs understood without words. From a young age, Sephiroth learned how to perform. He wasn’t necessarily one for grandness but he understood how occasional dramatics could make a difference. He tended toward an understated sort of drama, how silence and suspense and surprise wowed an audience better than monologues and sweeping gestures. He had learned through trial and error, developed his own sort of posturing that seemed unaffected, but pulled the desired response from onlookers. It was how he had won approval in the labs, where praise and acknowledgement were scarce.

Zack, though he preferred being showier and flashier, had been around his friend long enough to know how to play along.

Sephiroth held position, unguarded, not quite looking over his shoulder. The Zolom pulled itself up and up and up.

Zack waited for the exact moment before it struck to call, “Now!”

Sephiroth sprang into action at the exact moment the beast did. He pushed off, spraying clouded water as he did, meeting the snake in the middle as it lunged down for him. All it took was an elegant twist of his shoulders and a well-placed thrust to end things. Barret, Tifa, and Aeris hadn’t even realized what had happened until he landed, the movement too quick to follow.

Sephiroth straightened his knees from his landing, his arm still buried in the Zolom’s mouth. His shoulders had just barely slipped between its fangs and Masamune flashed from where it extended, piercing through the back of the beast’s head. With a practiced performance of ease, Sephiroth took a step back and flicked his sword to pull it free (it took much more effort than the small twist of the wrist he affected, but that was part of the show). He made one more small slash of his blade, gore slipping off the edge and into the murk, where red was slowly spreading from the new corpse.

Zack looked unimpressed, as if this was a thing he had seen countless times, and that only added to the effect. Sephiroth casually slipped Masamune away and Zack turned back to them before the general had even rejoined their group.

Barret looked begrudgingly impressed and Tifa’s expression was shuttered but her eyes scanned Sephiroth, analyzing. Aeris looked both awed and afraid and frustrated with her own fear. Of the three, she was, perhaps, the most prepared for the display. The loose-lipped scientists had described the drills and training that Sephiroth had received, but she had never witnessed such casual violence. Tifa and Barret hadn’t either, not really, but they were more accustomed to blood and battle in general.

“What do you think?” Zack asked, speaking for them both, and when Sephiroth returned to his side, he calmly raised one eyebrow.

Sephiroth knew it was all part of the unspoken plan: “Convince Them That Sephiroth Is Terrifying.” It was a plan they had enacted again and again, for board members and SOLDIERs and Wutai captives who needed to give up to back down. It was nothing new, but it still made both of their skin crawl. Sephiroth hated being treated like a show pony, performing tricks on command; it was the labs all over again. Zack knew exactly what memories it pulled up for Sephiroth and hated being complicit in that. But both understood that their feelings didn’t always matter, but their ability to get the job done. Neither liked that they’d done this so many times that they didn’t need to discuss the matter before hand, both knowing when the act was called for and beginning without any sort of conference.

Barret and Tifa’s unwilling respect had a lingering backlight of fear. Aeris’s fear faded quickly into displeased sympathy. It wasn’t hard to guess what memories had been dragged up, especially with the way that “calm, cool, collected” mask of Sephiroth’s was accompanied with such dead eyes.

“I don’t like it, but I guess,” Tifa admitted with a new wariness in her eyes.

“If she’s in, I’m in,” Barret said with equal displeasure.

Aeris said nothing, until all eyes turned toward her. She wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for the way Sephiroth’s eyes found her and held them, his eyebrow slipping to neutral, eyes narrowing just barely in what might have been challenge and might have been suspicion.

He realized that she may have seen too much, and didn’t like it.

“Yeah, sure,” was all she said, finally pulling her eyes away from Sephiroth’s. She refused to look back, unsure of what he would see in her face (for some reason, she didn’t think he’d like to see any sympathy). His eyes tracked her, and she knew it, but she also carefully ignored it.

“Let’s get moving, then,” Zack said. He and Sephiroth had been on too many missions together not to fall into habit. Without a word, Zack took point and Sephiroth took six. They were used to their men falling into place without prompting, but Sephiroth had to stare Tifa and Barret down to get them to start moving, and by that point they had to jog to catch up to Zack. Aeris looked unsure; she thought she might need to be the last in their little pack so she wouldn’t drag them down. Sephiroth knew better; someone needed to watch their backs, and it was best that he do it. Knowing he had more experience and knew what was best for this situation, Aeris took her place behind AVALANCHE when Sephiroth gestured with his head for her to move forward.

Zack didn’t move at an unreasonable pace, but it was unforgiving for their unenhanced members. They were near jogging to keep up, but it would be better if they didn’t have a Zolom run in, if they could avoid it. Zack didn’t like the way AVALANCHE had looked at his friend after their little display. The point of it had been to convince them of his prowess, and with that came a level of fear and alienation. Sephiroth knew it and Zack knew it, but he certainly didn’t have to like it. The less cause for that fear to grow, the better.

Sephiroth had long since convinced himself that he was indifferent to that isolation and dread.

Of course, there was very little likelihood that they would cross entirely without incident. They made it the majority of the way, actually in the very last stretch before they had any trouble. When they did find trouble, it was worse than they expected.

Two Zoloms were swiftly approaching from their left and right, one from their 11, one from their 4.  

“Go,” Sephiroth ordered, and at first, Zack had no idea what the concern was; Sephiroth’s senses _were_ admittedly more intense than his. He caught sight of the snakes and cursed quietly.

“Follow me,” Zack called. “ _Run_!”

With matching looks of terror and swears falling from Barret’s lips, the trio ran for the edge of the marshes as fast as they could. Zack let them pass him to cover their escape, jogging backward with occasional glances over his shoulder, blade at the ready.

Sephiroth let off a big, bright fire spell, slamming it into the water nearby. A cloud of steam rose, but the light and heat drew the Zoloms’ attention back to him. Zack had only barely caught the beginning of their battle before his attention was pulled.

“Uh, Zack!”

He spun to look at what made Tifa yell for him, only to see the looming silhouette of a Zolom, stretched to the top of its height, at the edge of the marsh. He swore, unwittingly mimicking Barret only moments earlier, and ran toward it.

Sephiroth glanced multiple times, trying to see what the problem was without completely diverting his attention from his own fight. It took a few seconds for the steam he had created to dissipate enough for him to see the issue, but when he did, he was much more comfortable focusing in on his own enemies.

“Leave it, Zack,” he called, engaging one of the snakes. “Keep going.”

Zack knew better than to question Sephiroth in moments like these; he’d had the entire Wutai War to learn that. Barret, Tifa, and Aeris were frozen, hesitant, unsure of the next step.

“ _Go_ ,” Zack insisted, shoving Barret and Tifa between their shoulder blades to force them to move before grabbing Aeris’s hand to drag her forward. He didn’t give them the chance to question Sephiroth.

They reached the edge of the marshes, but Zack continued to press them forward until they were in the caves.

“Wait here,” he said, as soon as he was sure of their safety, before running back out to deal with the third Zolom.

He only got fifteen feet before he came to a stunned halt.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, staring up.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but it was long enough that their members in the cave were whispering among themselves, trying to figure out what they should do, and Sephiroth had reached him, coming to a stop on his right. Seeing the SOLDIERs still and staring upward gave the other three the courage to come out to see what was so fascinating.

“Holy shit,” Barret echoed as they stopped to stare as well.

Their entire party had frozen to stare up at the dead Zolom, impaled on an equally dead tree. The branches, the entire top of the tree had been removed and tossed to the side. The snake’s head lolled to one side, dangling midair. Its tail was draped along the ground, curled slightly around the base of the tree. The stench of blood filled the air as much as the gore dripping from it filled the ground beneath it.

“Do you think it was—” Zack started.

“Almost certainly,” Sephiroth confirmed.

It took some time and some whispering for the other three to figure out that they were agreeing Cloud was responsible, but there was really no one else it could have been. Who else would be able to kill a Zolom on their own, break the tree, and leave the beast speared on it? This, above all else, cemented the trio’s fear of Cloud.

But only Aeris, Aeris and Zack, saw the way it broke Sephiroth’s heart.

He knew his Cloud was gone, knew it full well, but the reminder shoved in his face hurt more than he expected. His Cloud would never have done this. Killed a monster threatening his life, certainly. But he’d never had any concept of performance, of drama, even when it was helpful, if not a necessity. It was one of the reasons it had taken the other SOLDIERs so long to respect him.

This, however, was a performance as much as it was a message. It was a sign left specifically for Sephiroth and Zack. Cloud knew they would follow him, of course he did. He knew Shinra well enough to know that. He also must have known that they would figure out where he was going—they’d had the entire Wutai War to learn how to think like the enemy, how to follow them, and that was without the leg up of knowing him so well.

Cloud was letting them know that they had been right, that they had picked up his trail.

He was also telling them that he knew he was being followed.

Eventually, Zack put a hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder. It took the man longer than he intended to pull his eyes from the corpse, only to find that all eyes were now on him. That, he didn’t like, not at all. He hated few things as much as he did the idea that they had read something on his face, that they had witnessed a moment that should have been private.

Zack knew he had given nothing away, but he still didn’t like the way his features hardened further. Sephiroth stepped around the others and led the way into the mines without a word. Zack followed wordlessly, and Aeris wasn’t far behind, almost as concerned as the lieutenant was. Barret and Tifa exchanged a long look before tagging along, perturbed by the entire situation.

But not even Sephiroth’s senses were strong enough to pick up their onlooker, having no reason to look for one to begin with. But that had been intentional.

Mother did know best, after all.

Cloud was perched on a cliff above a sharp drop, watching his friends and those strangers make their progress through the marshes. He watched with a sneer that bordered on a snarl as Sephiroth was forced to prove himself to these tag-alongs. He watched as Sephiroth pulled the weight of their entire group. He didn’t like either of these things. Sephiroth was _special_ , not some sort of dancing monkey. He wasn’t some sort of hired thug, made to protect his lessers when he shouldn’t have been forced to tolerate them in the first place.

He watched as the group stopped because Sephiroth stopped and started to move when he moved again, understandably the conductor of the entire affair.

What he couldn’t decide was if he did or did not like the way Sephiroth lingered in front of his message for so long. He wasn’t near enough to read the emotions on his face—but he would have been able to, if he was closer, he always _was_ able to, no matter how much the other man tried to hide them. He was distinctly unhappy about not knowing.

 _You’ll know soon enough_ , Mother told him, and it eased every nerve in his body. Finally calm again, he stood from his watch-post. _You’ll know on the other side, but you need to hurry, now._

“Yes, Mother,” he whispered to the empty air as he began to climb.

It was already risky to watch their approach, but needed to see him. He told Mother (and himself) that he lingered so he could know when they were coming, so he wasn’t stuck waiting on the other side forever, impatient, never sure when they would be there. It wasn’t quite the truth, but Mother indulged him anyway. After all, it brought a pep to his step, a little skip to his stride, as he began to move. It hadn’t been very long since he last saw Sephiroth, but it felt like _ages_. Knowing he would see him again soon made his heart soar in a way he hadn’t expected. He knew he missed Sephiroth, but he hadn’t realized how _much_. Every part of him felt light and _full_ of light. No matter what the outcome of their next meeting was, it would be a sweet, sweet victory, just to be near him again.

It took very little prodding from Mother for him to move quickly. Had he not lived in the Nibel mountains for so long, it would have been impossible for him to even consider crossing over the range in time to beat Sephiroth and his group to the other side. But, at some level, mountains were all the same. The cliffs and crags, the snow and ice whispered _home_ to him. The chilled air felt sweet to his tongue and lungs, for more reason than one. He picked his way through passes that should have been impassable with ease. Whether it was his comfort in the terrain, his high from seeing his love, or a simple matter of enhancements, he moved through the range with speed and ease.

After all, the sooner he got there, the sooner he would see Sephiroth again.

He felt breathless, and if the smile on his lips was anything to go by, it wasn’t from the exertion of climbing.


	35. Chapter 35

Zack forgot how much he _hated_ the mines.

It had been a while since he’d actually had to go through them, considering the fact that he usually passed over them in a helicopter. He forgot how unnecessarily complicated they were. There were vines they had to climb up and down and back up again, twisting paths that were more precarious than passable, sharp drops that ended so far down Zack couldn’t quite see the bottom. If given enough time, yes, he could have passed through on his own. After years of working in his occupation, his brain had been trained into a certain level of spacial awareness. It was a simple matter to construct a map in his head from his surroundings, remembering where he had been to find out where he needed to go. Still, it would have taken much longer, and they didn’t have any time to waste.

Sephiroth’s near-perfect memory was their saving grace. He led them through the mines with ease, picking his way through winding paths that Zack was incapable of differentiating on sight. He caught AVALANCHE looking between each other more than once, unsure of how Sephiroth knew where to go with such ease.

Sephiroth, for his part, let his feet lead themselves while his mind wandered. It took little concentration to move his body along the right path, which was a blessing, considering his distraction. The dead, displayed Zolom was more that disconcerting, and he couldn’t shake the effects of the sight. This other-Cloud was out there somewhere, and they were going on guesses and hopes to try and find him. The Zolom had been a tame show of destruction, but it was a reminder of Kalm, of Nibelheim. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering how many more towns would burn before they caught up to Cloud. How that number would multiply if they didn’t manage to head him off in the plains on the other side of the mountains.

Zack was busy trying to reform his own mental map of the mines as they moved. AVALANCHE was blindly taking in their surroundings as they passed, trying to commit them to memory and failing. Aeris, whose connection to the planet gave her an uncanny knowledge of the way the natural formations twisted and turned, knew their path as effortlessly as Sephiroth did. She was the only one who caught the hollow look on Sephiroth’s face, the way his eyes suddenly looked haunted. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking about, and she found his distraction concerning. It did nothing to calm her nerves about confronting Cloud. But, there was nowhere private to talk to him about it, and she was under the distinct (and correct) impression that he wouldn’t want to discuss the matter in front of the full group.

She had originally expected not to have any opportunity to bring it up, but after what might have been minutes but also might have been hours, Sephiroth led them into a cavernous, dead-end space. Tifa and Barret came to a halt in the entryway, Aeris only barely managing not to bump into them from their sudden stop. Zack followed Sephiroth in wordlessly and began unpacking his bag, though the general himself turned to the group.

“We’re stopping here for the night,” he announced, giving each of the trio a brief look before also unpacking the bag that was slung across his shoulders.

“Night?” Barret asked, following the SOLDIERs into the chamber, looking around at the stone walls.

“Night,” Sephiroth confirmed. “It’s approximately 9:30pm; we’ve already been going longer than usual, but we need to move quickly, and inside the caves it makes little difference whether the sun is up or not.”

“How do you even know what time it is?” Tifa asked. She had been keeping a close eye on Sephiroth, unsure if he was leading them the correct way as he never pulled out a map. She hadn’t seen him check a watch or his PHS either.

Zack answered for him as he turned away, clarifying, “The military can teach you how to keep time on your own pretty accurately.”

Barret turned back to look at the SOLDIERs with a frown.

“How does that even work?” he asked.

Zack began to babble about guard duties and missions in the dark and nighttime guard shifts, and it may have even been true, but Aeris knew full well that Sephiroth learned that particular skill in the labs.

After all, she knew the time as well.

The rest of their night was spent in a hush. Tifa and Barret were both nervous, unsure of how Sephiroth even knew where to go, and considering that they already put very little faith in his leadership, they were far from comforted. They spoke in whispers by themselves. Zack and Sephiroth spoke in disjointed snippets of conversation, one answering a question the other hadn’t even completed. It did little to improve AVALANCHE’s nerves.

Aeris watched the two groups in silence, not quite being a part of either and not quite feeling the need to intervene in either as well. She helped distribute the dry rations of food among the groups, helped scatter the materia they had around the cavern to add some light, since they couldn’t build a fire. When Sephiroth took first watch, she stayed up with him, as she usually did. Zack would relieve him for a handful of hours in the dead of night before Sephiroth resumed his watch until morning, giving Aeris some time to speak to Sephiroth.

Settling in to sit across from Sephiroth, cross-legged, she asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

Sephiroth looked up at her like it was the strangest question he had ever heard.

“Of course,” he answered, still bewildered. “Why do you ask?”

“The dead Zolom upset you,” she said, a simple statement of fact. She could see the way Sephiroth shut down, slamming down every wall he had ever built inside him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted, his voice as flat as his expression.

Usually, when he looked at people that way, they folded, at least somewhat. They flinched, they fidgeted, they looked away. Even Zack had when he’d first seen it. Only Cloud hadn’t been affected by it.

Much as Aeris wasn’t now.

She tilted her head (exactly as Cloud would have done) and stared him down.

“There’s nothing wrong with being upset,” she said, watching him carefully.

“I wasn’t upset,” he said, if anything, hardening further. That was as telling to Aeris as flinching.

“I would have been upset, in your shoes,” she admitted, and finally won a reaction from Sephiroth.

His brows furrowed, confused by the admission.

She shrugged, saying, “It was a disconcerting scene to begin with. Knowing someone I loved made it would have hurt and worried me.”

Sephiroth stared at her with suspicion, but didn’t answer.

“I just wanted to make sure that, whenever we do meet him again, it won’t hurt you too badly,” she said, tone quieting, voice softening.

The suspicion cleared from his face as he pulled himself up straighter. This was a situation that he was familiar with and knew he could handle.

“No emotional response would ever prevent me from doing my duty,” he answered. It was automatic, something that had been beaten into his head before he’d ever joined society. It was the right answer when he’d given it to Hojo, to Heidegger, to the President, to every authority figure he’d ever addressed.

It was the wrong answer for Aeris.

She melted in some way that he couldn’t put his finger on. The look on her face wasn’t quite pity, but something in him balked at it all the same.

“I know you’ll be able to handle it, Sephiroth,” she said. “I just don’t know if your heart will be able to.”

After these puzzling words, she offered a quiet goodnight, before retiring herself.

Sephiroth spent the rest of his guard duty wondering just what that meant.

When the time came for him to wake the rest of his companions, he still hadn’t figured it out.

He put the issue to the back of his mind and tried to focus on getting his most-still-half-asleep group through the mines. The only problem was that leading the way through the caves required very little thought at all. Every few minutes his thoughts would stray back to what in the world Aeris had meant by her strange comment. It was an overall unpleasant way to spend the day.

Sephiroth, being a man very used to having unpleasant days, didn’t fully expect it to get better. What he didn’t really expect was for it to get _worse_ (or better, depending on how honest he was being).

He led their group through the other end of the mines, blinking slowly to adjust his eyes to the sun while the unenhanced members of their party shielded their eyes with their hands, some grumbling about the brightness as if they hadn’t seen it coming for at least ten minutes as they approached the exit. He brought their party to a stop a little way out of the mines, being sure that everyone was in the sunlight before he did so. He found that members of the general population took poorly to being below ground for extended periods of time, making their moods fouler and tempers shorter. Considering that Aeris was raised inside Shinra’s labs and the AVALANCHE members were likely from below the plate, they would either be more comfortable in the dim light of the caves or particularly grateful for the sun. Unsure as to which would be the truth, he decided to have the upcoming conversation in the daylight (even if it was trailing off to dusk at this point). Best to have them make their decision in the surroundings they would be in for the next leg of their journey.

(This was not a particularly important decision to make, but it had provided him a distraction from considering Aeris’s comment while they walked).

Sephiroth turned to face his traveling companions and regarded each in turn. Zack looked expectant, and Aeris looked much the same, though that look of consideration from the previous night lingered. Barret was still blinking the sun out of his eyes and scowling, while Tifa had her hands on her hips, weight sunk into one hip as she waited to hear what they were pausing over.

“We have three options. We can wait here and see what comes of it, strike out toward Junon, or move for Fort Condor and Mideel. Each option has merit, and—”

He cut off speaking very suddenly, and most of their group couldn’t read what was on his face. Aeris could see the alarm, but only Zack saw the full display of emotion in the subtle lifts and curves of his features. Alarm, concern, sadness, and… fear?

Zack was the first to notice the way his gaze was slightly elevated, looking over their heads. He turned to investigate, his own features dropping into a clearer sign of surprise, as was his quietly uttered curse. The other three took that as their cue to look for themselves.

The exit of the mine jutted from the only slightly-curved cliff face of the mountains, forming a triangular steeple. At the point of this formation was a blond figure that most of their group couldn’t place immediately.

Cloud perched at the very edge of the exit, one leg tucked up beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around it, other leg dangling lazily. It was only by virtue of the SOLDIER First uniform he was still wearing that the rest finally understood who he was, though his distinctive eyes certainly helped.

He tilted his head to the side as he regarded the group below him, but he only had eyes for Sephiroth. As the others watched, a slow, fond smile bloomed on his face, transforming pretty features into an unexpectedly sweet visage.

“Sephiroth,” he said, voice honeyed and satin. He didn’t seem to need to raise his voice for it to reach them, it just carried strangely on the wind, his gentle words ringing strangely clear.

Zack, experiencing his own riot of emotions, was the only one who didn’t look back to the general. Even Barret saw the way Sephiroth seemed to soften at the edges before he rallied.

“Cloud,” he called back, confirming what the other three knew in their guts but couldn’t be certain about. That moment of softness passed into conviction, into determination (Cloud, and Zack had he looked, saw the hint of hesitation).

“You’ve found new friends,” he said, tilting his chin slightly toward the rest of the party, though his eyes didn’t move an inch. “I didn’t think you’d replace me so soon.”

Sephiroth’s jaw tightened. They both knew that that wasn’t what happened, and the lilt to Cloud’s voice told Sephiroth as much. He almost answered the tease anyway, but that was a topic too sensitive for their audience.

It was the exact reaction Cloud had been expecting. It stole a bright, bell-like laugh from him.

(It sounded familiar to everyone, but only Aeris recognized its similarity to her own.)

The blond gave a genuine, winning smile as he dropped his other leg, wrapped his fingers around the edge of the rock beneath him, and leaned forward.

“I’ve given you some time. Have you considered my offer yet?” he asked.

“You didn’t lead me to believe I’d be seeing you again so soon,” Sephiroth answered.

“But you considered it anyway, didn’t you?”

The others present glanced between the two of them as if they were watching a tennis match.

“We have much to discuss, if you’ll give me the chance.”

“For some reason, I don’t think you brought so many strays with you if you planned to have a discussion.”

Cloud’s face remained angelic in a way that Zack hadn’t seen since before the labs. His features were always pretty, even sweet, but the innocence that seemed like it should have been there had been stolen by the labs. Of all the expressions Zack had seen from the Cloud he came to know, angelic just wasn’t one of them anymore. It wormed under both his and Sephiroth’s skin in the worst way to see its reappearance.

Barret opened his mouth to argue, but Tifa quieted him with a hand on his arm. This was not the time to pick a fight over word choice. Especially since she _knew_ that boy. The name Cloud had seemed familiar in a vague way she couldn’t place, and she had assumed it had been a coincidence, maybe someone she had known in the slums. She had been far too wrapped up in the end of Nibelheim to be concerned with that familiarity. In truth, if Cloud had aged the way he was supposed to, she would have never recognized him. He was older than when she had last seen him, but still young enough for her to place his features. She only had foggy memories of the boy and his mother. She remembered him being picked on in a way that she was ashamed of now, of how she had ignored it, and thus been party to it. She remembered when he left school to help his sick mother, the way she would only ever catch glimpses of him around town at that point. She remembered the mother dying and the town’s uncertainty of what to do over her lost boy. No one had really cared about him, or his mother, but the woman was dead, and they’d let the boy be treated so badly, shouldn’t they do something? There were half-hearted search attempts that were given up too quickly. It was a formality intended to soothe the nerves of the townsfolk more than actually find the orphan. She had overheard her father orchestrate the hunt and overheard him call it off too soon.

She realized even as she recognized him that she had all but forgotten about him. The town had moved on quickly from his disappearance and she had followed their lead. She had been too young at the time, none of it had been her responsibility or her fault, but she felt a sense of guilt anyway. She had heard the boy— _Cloud’s_ story from Zack, knew he went through almost unspeakable horrors, knew that he was manipulated and twisted in a way that wasn’t entirely his fault, though that certainly didn’t absolve him of blame. But knowing how it all began now, she couldn’t help but feel like Nibelheim had failed him. That her father had failed him. If they had kept looking, if they had bothered to check what was really the only sensible place for him to be, it all could have been avoided. If he hadn’t been left with that creature for so long, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out how he did. Maybe the destruction of Nibelheim could have been prevented. Kalm could have been prevented. Everything he might do now if they failed to stop him might have been prevented.

If her father had done his job, had lived up to his responsibility as mayor, none of this would have happened.

It was an unfair thought, and on some level, she knew that. There was no way he could have known what would have happened. But she also couldn’t ignore the fact that Nibelheim, that her father had failed to do right by Cloud. They had failed him in a huge, huge way. Her father’s sins weren’t her own, but she couldn’t help the sense of responsibility that settled on her shoulders.

Her father had failed him; maybe it was up to her to set that right.

It tempered her initial lust for vengeance. She didn’t know where she stood anymore, and in all honesty, she was reeling. It would take time for her to sort her feelings out, and that wasn’t what she had right now, watching Cloud and Sephiroth go back and forth.

All she knew was that she couldn’t let Barret interrupt, for all of their sakes.

It took longer than she intended to pull herself back to present.

“We both know I wouldn’t involve them in a fight between us,” Sephiroth said, and Tifa had to squeeze Barret’s arm again to stop him from snapping in indignation.

Cloud hummed, the sound light and musical, before a smile spread across his lips.

“You always were strangely concerned with the body count,” he answered, sounding fond.

It did nothing to settle Tifa’s stomach.

“If you speak to me, I’ll explain why they’re here.”

Cloud tilted his head again, pursing his lips in thought.

The moment hung, Cloud turning his head slightly to his right, as if listening to something no one else heard.

It was too familiar a gesture for either Sephiroth or Zack’s taste.

“You understand that your company doesn’t make me very convinced that you’ll join me,” he said, voice light, but eyes narrowing just slightly, a cutting edge appearing there.

Everyone but Zack turned to look at Sephiroth.

“I have no intention of explaining the circumstances unless you agree to a discussion.”

Cloud’s eyes narrowed further for a beat, but then his face transformed into a dazzling grin. In any other situation, it would have been more attractive than any of them cared to admit. He climbed to his feet, somehow keeping his balance on the strange steeple of the exit.

“Come, then,” he said, gesturing with his head toward the mountain. “We’ll talk.”

Sephiroth stepped forward, but Zack grabbed his arm, pulling him to a halt. The SOLDIERs, who focused in on each other, didn’t see the way Cloud’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Be careful,” Zack insisted, pitching his voice low enough that their unenhanced party members couldn’t hear him, much less Cloud. “I don’t care what happens, things go south, you pull him out here. We fight him together or not at all, alright?”

A quip about who was the commanding officer lingered on the tip of Sephiroth’s tongue, but it wasn’t the moment for such levity. Zack wouldn’t have appreciated the remark in that moment anyway.

When Sephiroth nodded, Zack mirrored him before dropping his grip.

As he walked away, Zack said, “Remember who he is right now.”

Sephiroth wanted to argue. He wanted to insist that it was Cloud, that he would always be Cloud, that he knew exactly who he was. But this wasn’t his Cloud and they all knew it, as much as the knowledge sat sour in his stomach.

As Zack had spoken, Cloud had climbed up into a small dip in the mountainside, a crevice that grew into a rocky formation of boulders that would give them distance and privacy. As Sephiroth began to climb, Cloud waited patiently at the top of the incline, so he could lead him away.

Each person watching Sephiroth climb wanted to see evil on Cloud’s face. They wanted the cat leading the mouse astray, a sneer, a leer, some sinister smugness that would allow them to hate him. Instead, they watched his beatific face light with adoration and joy. There was a hesitance to the set of his shoulders, a hint in his body language that he knew this might not go how he wanted. But the curve of his lips and the doe-softness in his eyes was nothing but pure, simple love.

And somehow, that unsettled their onlookers even more.

Sephiroth attempted to steel himself as he climbed, dragging up memories of Cloud before the labs, of the obsessive light in his eyes, of how he had clung to the idea of him that Jenova put in his head.

But when he reached the precipice, when he finally looked up, it was almost like _his_ Cloud was back. He was seeing in double, half the present mountainside standoff, half a sleepy morning at daybreak in their bed. He knew that expression, full of affection and warmth, and it hadn’t been one he had seen ever before the labs. Love was written into every curve and line of Cloud’s face, welcome and returning and reunion in his outstretched hand. Though Sephiroth would never admit it, he was breathless when he took Cloud’s hand, and the breath was further knocked from him by the simple joy that stole over Cloud’s face when their fingers met.

He had no idea what was on his own face, in his own body language, but he allowed their fingers to lace, despite the way that he didn’t need the help to climb, that he should really be keeping his distance, that he should be trying to divorce himself as much as possible from the situation, from _this_ Cloud.

He just didn’t have it in him.

So he followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small note that I probably should have made earlier but will make now! The travel time in the game makes sense from a gameplay stand-point, but when you consider the map, you really do travel around way too quickly considering the distance you cover. Given the fact that I have no idea how many miles are between different points on the map or exactly how many miles unenhanced vs enhanced people would be able to travel in a day, I'm guessing at travel time. My goal is balancing realism, game pacing, and Cloud's travel time vs the main party's travel time. If some parts seem way longer than how they're shown in the game, that's why!


	36. Chapter 36

With their fingers interwoven, Cloud led them into an outcropping of rock, still close enough to the others that Sephiroth wasn’t truly concerned, but with enough covering and distance to give them privacy. There were multiple boulders of varying heights that the blond could have chosen to perch on, but he sank to the ground between the rocks. Sephiroth hesitated only a moment before following suit, sitting across from him, both cross-legged.

Sephiroth didn’t quite know how to begin, and Cloud wasn’t exactly helping. The blond made no move to begin their conversation, instead shifting closer so their knees pressed together. He pulled their hands apart to take Sephiroth’s between his fingertips. Though he was wearing his leather gloves, Cloud turned his hand over, inspecting every line of it, tracing each finger and curve of his palm with his own fingertips, as if trying to read something in his palm. Sephiroth found his mouth dry and unable to form the words he needed to share.

This wasn’t what he was expecting. He had thought he’d be seeing that wildling again, the feral boy who took joy in destruction and comfort in alienation from humanity. Perhaps those traits had, in fact, returned, but he couldn’t see them now. The man in front of him seemed every inch the lover he had lost, and it was difficult to remember that that just wasn’t the case.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Cloud finally began, looking up at Sephiroth from beneath his eyelashes (making Sephiroth’s heart stutter). “But I don’t think you’re going to say what I want you to.”

“I’m not,” Sephiroth answered, voice pitched lower, more intimate than he intended. The corner of Cloud’s mouth twitched up when he heard the tone.

He ended his inspection of Sephiroth’s hand by lacing their fingers together again and pulling his second hand forward, mimicking the action until their hands were pressed together. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, forearms on his calves, their joined hands resting over their ankles. It pressed Cloud forward, leaning into Sephiroth’s space.

It should have made him recoil.

It didn’t.

As they were, Sephiroth could see every pale freckle that dusted his nose and cheekbones, every fair eyelash, the bright waves of green in his eyes that surrounded the slit of his pupils, which seemed to be blown wider than they should be, considering the sunlight surrounding them.

He could see the way Cloud’s eyes kept dipping toward his lips.

He swallowed, and it was louder than he had intended it to be.

(Gods, since when was he so weak?)

“You wanted to explain?” Cloud prompted. Sephiroth cursed inwardly. He didn’t mean the moment to stretch on so long, and they both knew it, if the light of mischief in Cloud’s eyes was anything to go by.

“My… companions. Yes.”

When he failed to continue, Cloud’s head tilted, mouth turning up in a small smile, his bangs just barely falling into his eyes.

“What about them?”

This was not Sephiroth’s forte. He solved disputes with commands and battle. He had no talent for diplomacy, for careful phrasing to win over his opponent. He always left that to Zack, because he seemed to always fail at it. Sephiroth knew Cloud was aware of this, that he wouldn’t be expecting some artfully crafted speech, but it was also imperative that he made Cloud understand. If he could just do that, they could avoid much conflict and bloodshed.

This had never been part of the plan. He’d expected Cloud to rush him as soon as they caught him, for an intense battle, and hopefully a quick resolution with Cloud subdued in some manner. If he had known this would turn into a strange parley, he would have at least tried to prepare for it. It did nothing to soothe his nerves that he was flying blind.

“You mentioned in your note to me that Hojo had forced you and Je—your mother apart,” Sephiroth began, trying to be careful, knowing this was a verbal minefield and that he needed to keep Cloud on his side as long as he could.

The blond’s eyes narrowed for a quick second when he almost referred to Jenova by name, but his expression smoothed at the correction. He nodded, stroking a thumb over Sephiroth’s in a way that was distinctly distracting. It was meant to soothe, to wipe away that flicker of suspicion, and it almost worked. But that was the reminder Sephiroth needed that this was, in fact, Jenova’s son, not his lover, despite any displays to the contrary.

“I remember,” Cloud said, voice muddled with anger and distaste. Sephiroth didn’t know if that would help, but he couldn’t take his words back now.

“We found out how he did it, Zack and I,” Sephiroth said, watching Cloud closely. Something dark flickered over his face, but it was smoothed away before Sephiroth could identify what the emotion was. “We brought it with us; the others were involved with getting it out of Midgar.”

That dark thing stole over Cloud’s face again, before he settled into distaste and wariness.

“You want to separate Mother and I again,” he said, and his tone made it clear that it was an accusation. Not good. He was already on thin ice.

“I wanted to give you the option,” he said, mind whirling as quick as it could, trying to find some way to spin the situation to make it palatable to Cloud.

“Why would I want that?” he said, nose wrinkling. Cloud leaned out of Sephiroth’s space, sitting up straight. Their hands were still joined, but Sephiroth was losing him.

“As I recall, your opinion on many things changed when you were separated, Nibelheim and Kalm in particular,” Sephiroth said, speaking just a little quicker, trying to get all of his words out before Cloud could interrupt. This wasn’t how he did things. He thought before he spoke. He didn’t just let remarks fly or throw things at a wall and hope they stuck. It didn’t spell anything good for this conversation.

“That was only because I thought Mother abandoned me. She didn’t.”

“Do you remember, in the beginning, the conversations we had about opinions?” When Cloud paused and shook his head, Sephiroth continued. “That being a good son meant listening to your mother, but if your every thought and whim aligned with hers, there might be something more happening?”

At the prompt, Cloud pressed his lips together in a thin line. He did remember the conversation; they’d had it a few times. He trusted his mother implicitly, but after the labs in particular, the thought of being under someone’s thumb sat poorly with him. The thought of losing his free will sat even more poorly with him.

Sephiroth watched him mull it over, watched the emotions flicker across his face, knowing that if he knew Cloud any less, he wouldn’t have been able to read most of them. He watched the hesitance grow, the uncertainty, the quiet fear blooming. He tightened his grip around Cloud’s hands just barely, and the blond squeezed his hands back without thinking. That reassurance, even if it was a muscle memory, was a good sign.

Then Sephiroth saw him turn his head to the side, a gesture he was more than familiar with. His stomach sank between his feet.

Every hint that he was considering Sephiroth’s offer disappeared, Cloud’s face smoothing over at whatever Jenova had said to him. He watched those wide pupils retract sharply into thin lines before settling out again. He didn’t have to speak for Sephiroth to know he was losing.

In an impulse, a desperate gesture to keep Cloud with him, Sephiroth pulled their hands apart. He cupped Cloud’s face between his palms and leaned forward to kiss him.

Cloud went stiff at first, but then he melted. Sephiroth had intended the kiss to be short and chaste, but then Cloud’s fingers were there, light on his wrists and holding him in place. Their lips moved, slotting together easily, almost on instinct. Cloud let out the softest moan and Sephiroth sighed in response. For a moment, everything else disappeared, and it was just them. They could have been anytime, anywhere. In between a spar, returning home, in his office, in their bed. Both of their minds settled briefly in white noise, leaving the two of them stranded with nothing but each other. Cloud’s fingertips trailed up the leather around Sephiroth’s arms until they sank into his hair, pulling him closer, as near as they could get with how they were sitting. Their kiss deepened, and for a time, they were comfortably lost in each other.

But slowly, their breath ran out, and they had to separate. Neither was sure who started it, but they pressed their foreheads together, catching their breath in silence.

Eventually, Cloud whispered, “I missed you.”

Sephiroth answered, “And I you. More than you could know.”

The moment lingered, but eventually broke. They remembered where they were, why they were there, and what they were supposed to be doing. Neither really wanted to remember, but that stopped nothing. Sephiroth’s fingertips just barely tightened on Cloud’s face, the blond’s grip on his hair strengthening in response.

“Please, will you try?” Sephiroth asked in a whisper. “For me.”

He wasn’t sure if he expected Cloud to breathe a quiet assent or push him away with a refusal. He didn’t expect Cloud to press their foreheads together more and remain silent.

Sephiroth pulled away just enough to see what was happening on Cloud’s face. His expression was full of conflict, of concentration. He wasn’t sure what was happening and almost asked for clarification before he understood.

He was asking Jenova for permission.

Sephiroth’s stomach sank.

He knew what her answer would be.

Sephiroth let his thumbs stroke over Cloud’s cheeks. He didn’t expect affection to sway him, not when he knew the stranglehold Jenova had on his mind. It was a lost cause, at this point. Instead, he took the moment to memorize Cloud’s features, even if they were strained at the moment. He dragged his gaze across every inch of pale skin, each swaying strand of straw-blond hair, every freckle and eyelash, every curve of his cheek and line of his jaw. He knew this wouldn’t be the last time he saw him, but he knew Cloud would leave, would run, and there was no way to know when he’d catch up to him again. There was no way to know if they would have another private moment like this.

Eventually, Cloud opened his eyes, and his expression warped with the apology Sephiroth expected. Cloud stroked his thumbs over his temples, his hairline, and seemed to be memorizing Sephiroth in return.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Sephiroth didn’t quite smile, but he softened.

“I know,” he breathed back.

Cloud leaned close again to press one last kiss to his lips.

Sephiroth had no idea what he expected to happen from there. More discussion? An argument? A fight? Fleeing?

It certainly wasn’t for Cloud to take advantage of their kiss to grab a nearby rock and slam it into his temple.

As he fell backwards, darkness closing in on his vision, his only thought was, _I should have seen that coming._


	37. Chapter 37

“…iroth? Sephiroth? C’mon, man. Sephiroth?”

Sephiroth didn’t quite manage to hide the slight groan he made, eyes pressing shut harder, brows bunching. Gods, but his head hurt.

“Oh thanks gods. Time to get up, buddy.”

He blinked his eyes open slowly, leaving them as narrow slits as he looked up. The bright light stung at his eyes. It took a second for his gaze to focus, but then he saw Zack looming over him, face colored with vaguely relief-tinted concern. He had a hand on his shoulder.

“… Zack?”

“Yup. Sit up.”

He wrinkled his nose at the command, his not-quite-functioning brain balking out of sheer stubbornness and pettiness, but he brushed that aside quickly. He sat up slowly, carefully forcing his eyes to stop squinting against the light.

“What happened?” he asked. Everything still felt fuzzy.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Zack said, sitting back now that Sephiroth was upright. He was studying him with concern, Sephiroth could tell that, he just didn’t quite know what caused it.

And then everything came rushing back all at once.

He swore quietly.

“You remember a little better now?” Zack asked, eyes roving over Sephiroth’s face, carefully inspecting him.

“I believe so,” he said, sounding far from pleased.

“You wanna fill me in?”

Sephiroth rubbed his throbbing temple, knowing it was only by virtue of mako that it wasn’t still bloody.

“I was vague, but I asked Cloud to try separating from Jenova. She talked him out of it.”

Zack paused, then looked at him, eyebrow raised and the rest of his expression flat.

“You asked him.”

Sephiroth hid his wince in a frown.

“What would you have done?”

“ _Not_ ask him, and I’m better at talking than you are.”

“What should I have done, jumped him the second his back was turned?”

“No, but maybe hit him in the head with a rock as soon as he was distracted, which is what I’m guessing he did to you,” Zack said, looking pointedly at the bloodied rock on the ground.

Sephiroth did not look pleased.

Zack sighed, and when he spoke again, his tone spoke of appeasement.

“Listen, we both dropped the ball. We should have been talking about what to do when we found him; we were just too focused on catching him to think about what to do when we had him. Neither of us really thought we’d see him so soon.”

Sephiroth’s face showed exactly what he thought about said appeasement.

Zack rolled his eyes and tried again.

“Okay, fine. We fucked up. All we can do now is fix it, right?”

This attempt worked better.

Sephiroth sighed and climbed to his feet, Zack following suit.

“That’s true. How long was I out?”

“A minute or two max. I caught sight of Cloud running back into the mountains and came to get you. The others are still at the bottom—I told them to stay put so they wouldn’t get pulled into a fight if it came to one.”

Sephiroth pursed his lips for a second, then began climbing back down to where their companions were waiting. Zack sighed at Sephiroth for walking away instead of answering, but he didn’t know why he expected anything else.

When they reached the others, Sephiroth stopped in front of their waiting semi-circle, and Zack fell in line next to Tifa, crossing his arms in impatience.

“My attempt failed,” Zack snorted and looked away, “and Cloud fled. Overall, we’re in the same place we would have been regardless, considering this was a surprise encounter. Catching him in the mines or mountains was an optimistic but unlikely goal. We still need to decide which direction we should go from here.”

Zack had forgotten that, though Sephiroth was far from a great speaker, he was very capable of using people’s expectation of his bluntness against them—something he had learned from so many board meetings. People expected battle synopses, to be given the most pertinent information and that alone. He was a SOLDIER, after all, and they were created for war, not eloquence. Those around him just tended to forget that it was up to his discretion to choose “the most pertinent information,” and it wasn’t hard for Zack to see the other three falling for it.

“Fuck if I know,” Barret said simply. When the others looked at him, he shrugged. “I don’t know him, how am I supposed to guess where he’d head?”

Tifa frowned, but nodded. “I can guess, but you two know him, and you’re SOLDIERs. You’re trained for war and things like this, aren’t you?”

Sephiroth nodded in return, saying, “Yes, but you three are not under my command. It would be inappropriate to make all decisions for us without consultation, and you would likely resent me for it.”

Zack didn’t look so he wasn’t aware, but both he and Aeris gave him matching smiles showing that they approved. Tifa and Barret both wore a look that said that they found they couldn’t argue with his point. Demonstrating as much, Tifa voiced her opinion, even if she looked a little hesitant.

“I say Junon. There’s Nibelheim that way, and more land, with more cities and villages to burn,” she said, and Zack’s mouth twitched down into a frown at his inability to defend his friend from the implied allegations. Sephiroth felt much the same, but hid it better.

When the three looked to Barret, he just shrugged, and said, “I still don’t have a goddamn clue.”

The group turned to Aeris next, who hummed in thought for a moment before answering.

“Mideel. The Lifestream is much stronger there. There are fewer people, but more potential power for him to access.”

Zack and Sephiroth looked at each other as the group looked between them.

“He does have a lot of power already,” Zack said.

“Only what Hojo has given him. I doubt that sits well with him,” Sephiroth answered.

They stopped paying attention to the others, focusing on bouncing ideas off one another, much the way they had in Wutai.

“He probably attributes a fair amount of it to Jenova though.”

“True, but he’s also aware that his second round of enhancements was purely Hojo, since he separated them.”

“Yeah, but you know the opinion he had of himself before the labs.”

“Even with everything considered, I doubt that attitude hasn’t been tempered some.”

“Still. He knows full well how strong he is. As long as he doesn’t let us catch him, there’s not much that can stop him. No reason for him to go so far out of his way just to get stronger.”

“True, but he knows for certain that we’re tailing him now. We’ll find him again sooner or later, he knows that. Why risk being stopped when we do?”

“Maybe he’ll get done what he intends to before that happens. He could bank on that.”

“We both know that’s too big a risk for him. He’s arguably more cautious than either of us.”

“When he’s leading SOLDIER missions, yeah, and we both know he isn’t the same person anymore.”

“Yes, but we don’t know what his aims are in general. If we think it’s gaining power, we go to Mideel. If it’s destruction, Junon. What would he actually get out of wanton terrorism, Zack?”

“How should I know? All I’m saying is that it’s his M.O.”

“It was before. Even if he isn’t the man we knew, he also isn’t the person he was when we met him, that I know for certain.”

“What if those goals were Jenova’s? She’s still leading him around by the nose.”

“There’s no way to be certain what he aims to do at this time.”

“Yeah, well, how do you expect to choose then?”

“If he goes to Mideel, we will have no way of knowing. It’s not a particularly large area, but there’s not the strongest Shinra presence there. If he wants destruction, not power, then we’ll hear about it, even if it’s not in a Shinra-aligned area. If nothing else, word of mouth would get the news to Shinra, and by extension to us, eventually if towns were being razed.”

The trio’s necks were starting to get sore from looking between the two SOLDIERs, watching them plan in silence. They were, silently, glad when Zack paused. They were even gladder when he nodded his assent.

“Alright. But I’m checking in with HQ daily to be sure.”

Sephiroth nodded, considering the issue closed until Tifa interrupted.

“Hold on, so you’re going to risk letting an entire town, potentially _multiple_ towns, get destroyed as some sort of shitty alarm bell?” She did not sound happy about it.

Sephiroth didn’t mean to look at her as coldly as he did.

“That is at his current threat level. If he finds some way to access more power, it could be regions, if not the entire planet, at risk, and we’d have no way of knowing until countries burned or a death omen hung in the sky. I don’t like putting villages at risk either, but this is a simple comparison. The body count at risk is just higher in one case than the other.”

Tifa didn’t like his look, or his tone, or his words. But there wasn’t much of an argument to offer against that.

Silence descended over the group, the weight of what was on the line settling in around each person. The trio felt nauseous at what might be lost if they failed, though some hid it better than others. Zack was solemn in a way he hadn’t been since Wutai. Sephiroth simply focused, letting the risks roll off him like water. There was no sense in focusing on the could’s and might be’s. It wasn’t very complicated, in the end. Either they succeeded or they didn’t. His energy was better spent on being sure they succeeded than senseless dread.

With a lack of opposition, Sephiroth said, “Mideel it is.”

He then turned in the direction of their goal, following an eerily accurate internal compass, and began to walk.

The others fell in line behind him.


	38. Chapter 38

As it turned out, intense dread simply didn’t last long. Zack and Sephiroth were used to the weight of extreme consequences on their shoulders and simply proceeded with the plan. The other three squirmed under that weight, sleeping and eating less until something broke. Aeris was the first one, though the SOLDIERs weren’t sure if it was a sign of weakness or strength. She couldn’t stand the ominous air around them and began talking, filling the silence, trying to drag others into conversation and storytelling until they nearly forgot the situation at hand. Zack joined in immediately, ever the chatterbox and optimist. The two of them dragged every member of their group, even occasionally Sephiroth, into conversation, though some were more willing than others. Sephiroth in particular was never exactly loquacious, but he understood well the difference a boosted morale could make.

The team seemed almost desperate to forget their purpose. Discussion of Cloud had altogether ceased; Sephiroth assumed because no one could stomach the idea that they had chosen the incorrect path. Avoiding problems was never really something that sat well with him, and the way the party was playing pretend like the stakes weren’t there was irritating at best. Still, this was what made them comfortable, what kept their moods out of the trenches and at least the idea of optimism around them. That wasn’t something he was willing to compromise without reason, no matter how poorly it sat with him.

But that silence could have had a cost. Their last encounter with Cloud, his useless request to be given a chance, the benefit of the doubt, had crashed and burned, primarily because they had no plan going in. They had settled on Mideel as their destination, but what did they intend to do when they caught up again? He would have torn away that intentional silence if Zack hadn’t placated him. They waited until after Tifa and Barret were asleep, but they made time to plan. Aeris, who stayed up later than the other two, was present, but the planning didn’t compromise her mood the way Sephiroth had expected. It was rare that she had real input; she had said more than once that she was no warrior and knew too little of Cloud to offer effective strategies. She was, however, very good at poking holes in plans, almost infuriatingly so. Usually, the SOLDIERs were good about considering every angle of a scheme, but sometimes she found a flaw they simply didn’t consider, likely because she just had a different perspective than they did.

Sephiroth never would have thought to include her in planning, preferring instead to shelter her from the hard reality and help her forget the risks at hand. She was no soldier, she wasn’t accustomed to potential body counts, and he knew that sat poorly with civilians. Still, and perhaps he should have expected it knowing she had been raised in the same labs he had, she was made of much sterner stuff than he expected. She continued to prove more valuable to their mission than he expected.

Still, the situation was less than optimal for Sephiroth, far less. He was content to let the others chat to keep morale elevated, but that wasn’t something he necessarily participated in. He was never one for idle conversation, particularly not with anyone other than Zack and Cloud. He didn’t know the other three, wasn’t comfortable letting his guard down with them. Zack knew this and didn’t attempt to involve him, knowing that Sephiroth wouldn’t consider it isolation or a slight, but rather a mercy. Aeris took her cue from Zack, knowing by now that Zack knew him very well and knew Sephiroth’s preferences. She slipped on occasion, either forgetting in her attempt to keep everyone involved to exclude him or refusing to exclude him entirely on principle.

Even if he had been interested in joining their conversations, the reaction he received would have deterred him. Tifa and Barret were still so wary of him, they went back on their guard the minute he spoke. The point of all the chatting was to lift morale, not kill it. Eventually, Aeris reverted to her initial method with him: speaking to him alone. She would drift out of the conversation, knowing Zack could keep it going even if Tifa and Barret weren’t entirely interested. Aeris and Zack took turns making sure he wasn’t isolated. He had no idea why until Zack cornered him after their planning one night.

He waited until Aeris retreated to sleep, but then a seriousness settled around him that Sephiroth was both familiar with and not happy to see. It tended to be a prelude to conversations he didn’t want to have, and his expectation was met yet again.

“How are you holding up?” Zack asked. It was a week after their run in with Cloud, and Sephiroth supposed he should have been expecting this, and probably sooner than it had come.

The corners of Sephiroth’s mouth twitched down, a careful blankness falling over his face, but when he opened his mouth to respond, Zack interrupted.

“Hey, no—no, don’t even try that. Don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not.”

“You really are.”

“I’m really not.”

“I can barely get three words out of you during the day. The only thing you’ll talk about is what to do when we catch Cloud, and so far almost all of our plans are violent.”

“I fail to see your point.”

“My point is that it’s taking a toll on you—don’t deny it, it’d be painfully obvious to anyone who knows you even a little bit.”

Sephiroth’s mouth pressed into a thin line for a second.

“Let me rephrase: I fail to see what discussing it will do,” he said. He knew his face was smooth, that his tone was even, yet Zack still softened as if he had displayed tears. He swore internally.

“Bottling things up doesn’t help anything, and I know you know it, even if you don’t like it. I’m your friend, Seph. You can talk to me,” he said, and his voice was gentle and coaxing, as if trying to win over a spooked deer. Sephiroth didn’t like that either.

“What would you like to hear, Zack?” he said, his voice coming out harder, sharper than he intended, though he didn’t know if his irritation was for Zack or himself.

“Some honesty would be a good start.”

“I have nothing to say about this.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it.”

“Zack, enough.”

“It really isn’t.”

“I don’t want to discuss it.”

“You never want to discuss the things that really need it. Please, humor me?”

He looked to the side and let out a short, hard sigh, entirely exasperated, every hint of annoyance at every part of his situation coming through.

“How I’m _feeling_ has nothing to do with the mission.”

“Your morale matters just as much as everyone else’s, Seph.”

He turned his gaze back to Zack, quietly evaluating. The other man just raised his eyebrows in expectation.

Sephiroth looked away again.

“My morale is fine.”

“Sephiroth,” and there was the full name again, a sign of Zack’s own irritation, “you barely speak, you spend all day in your head, you look emotionless by _your_ standards, which always means you’re covering something up, you eat and sleep the absolute minimum by SOLDIER standards and the only reason the others aren’t alarmed by it is because they’re all still buying into that ‘invincible Demon of Wutai’ bit of ShinRa PR. You’re not doing well.”

The muscle in Sephiroth’s jaw jumped as he ground his teeth. He hadn’t realized how closely Zack had been watching him. He should have known better.

It was an old, old defense mechanism, but it was his instinct, to grow thorns when cornered, his words growing barbs, his tongue growing sharp.

“Stop projecting. You’ve been hiding behind that smile of yours since we saw him last, _you_ haven’t been eating enough, and the fact that you’re even still awake shows that you’re sleeping less; you usually would have been asleep hours ago. Just because you’re coping poorly doesn’t mean I am.”

Instead of looking angry or hurt, Zack softened again, and that was worse.

“You know, you only lash out at me like that when you’re really hurting.”

This time, when he broke eye contact, he let the swear softly escape his lips.

The silence hung, Zack knowing he had Sephiroth cornered, Sephiroth still unwilling to cave.

For someone so chatty, who hated silence so much, Zack could hold out much longer than expected when he wanted to.

When Sephiroth eventually spoke, it was through gritted teeth, each word pulled from him painfully, an unwilling gift.

“I let myself hope, at first. I thought there might still be a way to reach him. I was wrong.”

It wasn’t much, as confessions went. They both knew that if he was anyone else, it should have been a gush of words, of all the secrets and emotions he’d kept trapped behind his lips. But that had simply never been Sephiroth’s way. Emotional outpourings always were and always would be foreign to him. He had to be cornered and coaxed and cajoled into any sort of admission, the truth wrung from him by force, and even then he spoke more in implications and the gaps between words than anything. Luckily, Zack knew him long enough, well enough, to understand anyway.

“There’s still hope, even if it’s not the kind you were expecting. Just because—…”

Zack kept speaking, some part of him could register that, and when he glanced over his mouth was still moving, but Sephiroth couldn’t hear him anymore.

The sounds of the world around him were suddenly drowned out by static, by a ringing in his ears that was overwhelming. He flinched, and Zack stopped when he saw it, but Sephiroth was too distracted to notice at that point. His hand twitched up for a second, returned to his lap, then rose sharply to press against his temple as the sounds doubled.

The roar in his ears swallowed everything and came with a terrible swell of pain, and his palm pressed to his temple did nothing to alieve it. He curled forward, trying to quell the ache that just wouldn’t pass.

The static turned cacophonous, into a flood of whispers, of screams, piling over one another to the point of being incomprehensible. He doubled over, both hands clutching at his head now.

Gods, it hurt. It hurt, and he had no idea why, or what was happening. This wasn’t something he had ever experienced before, not in the labs or the wild or the war.

Zack came to kneel before him, concerned, hands on Sephiroth’s shoulders, but the General was too internally focused to notice.

Time both sped up and slowed. The world dimmed, everything pulling down to the pinpoint of that awful chorus, of the knives in his brain, of the way his vision went dark, then bright white, then dark again.

He didn’t know that his arms began to tremble, he was holding his head so hard.

He didn’t know that he began to pant in an attempt to master the pain.

He didn’t know what was happening at all.

It could have been a millisecond or an hour or a decade that went by.

But it all came to a head.

Each and every voice, every whisper and every scream, suddenly united, all called him.

“ ** _Sephiroth_**.”

He slipped forward off the log he’d been sitting on, falling to his knees in pain as the call tore through him, as painful as anything he’d ever felt in all his years, perhaps worse.

And then as suddenly as it came, the voices, the static, the ringing, the hurt all disappeared like smoke.

“—iroth? Sephiroth?”

It sounded like it was coming from miles and miles away, but Zack’s worried voice came closer, first slowly and then all at once.

He knew that every single guard he had was down, but he also knew that this was Zack, and that it didn’t matter. He let his hands slip from his head and looked at his friend with wide eyes, with alarm.

“Hey, there you are,” Zack said with relief, watching Sephiroth’s eyes find his, tension slipping from his shoulders. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I… don’t know,” Sephiroth said, and that was perhaps the most disturbing part of all.

“You don’t know?” Zack said, brow furrowing. He apparently found it as discomforting as Sephiroth did.

He shook his head and climbed to his feet, stumbling slightly (an extreme worry—Sephiroth was many things, but none of them were clumsy), Zack following with him. He balled his hands into fists to hide the tremble in his fingertips.

Zack raised his eyebrows, a concerned askance, and Sephiroth only shook his head again.

This was not a good time for sudden pain and unexplainable illness. They couldn’t afford it. Not now.

If that happened when he confronted Cloud, the whole world could come crashing down around them.

Before he even finished speaking, Zack was nodding, as he said, “This stays between us.”

“Of course. Not a word to anyone.”

It was ShinRa HQ, it was Wutai all over again. They had their companions, that was true, the same way they had SOLDIER, the same way they had had the army. But this set them apart again, if they hadn’t been already. It was them against everything, even their allies not to be trusted with the whole truth.

Though it wasn’t a comforting isolation, at least it was a familiar one.

 


	39. Chapter 39

Neither Zack nor Sephiroth knew what to make of the incident that night, so they did the only thing they could: they put it aside. Sephiroth found his mind wandering back to the episode while the conversation of his companions flowed around him without requiring his attention. He failed to notice that Zack was falling silent more often too, during the first day, mind drawn to the same subject. If they had any inkling of what could have caused it, both would be able to put it aside with significantly more ease. Zack, who knew his friend’s almost ridiculously high pain tolerance, was both alarmed by the implied severity of the episode and disconcerted by the way that he had no way to help his friend. Sephiroth was less concerned with the pain as he was the helplessness. He had been completely severed from his surroundings, unable to move or even think. Few things unsettled Sephiroth quite like the loss of control, and though he told himself his primary concern was a reoccurrence during a battle, making him unable to fight, it was more the simple thought of his body slipping away from him again that wore on him.

To ease his mind, Zack threw himself into attempting to grow closer to the rest of the group. He had already hit it off well with Aeris, and even if Barret was blind to it, Tifa began to notice their glances, their little smiles and the flirtations they thought were subtle. Strangely enough, it was what drew her closer to Zack. She’d heard too much of SOLDIER and the Wutai War, and though she knew Zack was friendly, he was dangerous and aligned with ShinRa, which made him both a threat and untrustworthy. The longer they were around each other, the more Tifa got to both speak with him and see him interact with Aeris, the more she realized that her view had been oversimplified. Watching him flirt, seeing him be sweet (though a part of her still found even the idea strange), humanized him for her.

Tifa and Zack found ways to bond in shared experiences. They talked of growing up in little reactor towns, the differences in climate and the similarities of village folk, the different mannerisms but similar mindsets. Zack had been delighted to find that she was a brawler; his sword was his first weapon, for a variety of reasons, and would always be his favorite way to fight, but hand-to-hand combat was easily his second favorite. Fighting skin to skin, relying on nothing but his own body and mind, whether it was trading blows or grappling, had its own sort of catharsis to it. Sephiroth was trained in hand-to-hand combat in the way he was trained in every form of combat. He fought with his fists and feet in moments of necessity, not out of any sort of joy in the style. When Tifa asked if Zack would spar with her, he had been filled with excitement. It was bonding and distraction wrapped into one, making it a blessing in that moment.

Zack found a harder time getting closer to Barret. He and Aeris shared a similar disposition and, in general, just jived together. He and Tifa shared enough similar experiences to give them common ground to work off of. Zack was struggling to find a way to relate to the man, and if anything, Barret was starting to hold his friendship with the girls against him. The rift between them, started by Barret leading AVALANCHE and Zack being a SOLDIER, was only widening with time. Eventually, Zack decided he had only two real options. All he could do was try each and see if either worked.

His first option was picking a physical fight with Barret. It took some goading for the man to throw the first punch, but when he did, it devolved quickly. Aeris had immediately moved to step in, but both Sephiroth and Tifa went to stop her in the same moment. There was something to be settled in that fight, a resolution that had to be reached, and both Tifa and Sephiroth knew as soon as the first hit landed that the easiest way to reach it would be through the brawl. They all knew that Zack would win in the end, but by the time Zack reached out one sweat-slick hand to help Barret back to his feet when it was all over, there was a mutual respect between them.

Zack followed the fight up with his second option, using the tenuous peace between them as a bridge. He sat Barret down and asked him to explain AVALANCHE to him. He admitted freely that ShinRa had flaws and that he was going to listen with as little bias as he was able. He let Barret explain the Lifestream and the planet’s energy and the reactors, presenting all the familiar old truths in a new light. He challenged him for further detail, asked his questions to gain answers and not to argue. In the end, he could only say in honesty that he had been given a lot to think about, but that he _would_ think about it.

That was, apparently, all that was needed. They had reached an understanding through fists and words, won a mutual respect. Barret joined in the conversations more readily, and with a common ground formed between Aeris, Tifa, Barret, and Zack, there was both a lessening in awkward silences and a tendril of friendship forming between the four.

Just as Zack leaned into the friendship, Sephiroth leaned away. It was, really, all he knew. He was raised away from his peers and, once he was introduced to them, immediately isolated by virtue of first his station, and then his reputation. The prodigy general, untested and undeserving of his post, was shunned for presumption. The General, proved to be deserving of his rank, was isolated by fear, respect, and idolatry. Zack, and later Cloud, were the only ones who pulled toward him instead of away. Even if he wanted to join in the camaraderie around him, he had no real idea how.

Zack, distracted by his mission to befriend Tifa and Barret, failed to keep his usual close eye on his friend. The lieutenant had always been the one to pull his general into socialization, to be sure that he didn’t allow his friend to slip into the total isolation that tended to develop when Zack wasn’t taking active measures to ensure his inclusion.

If asked, Sephiroth would have said that said isolation was fine with him. He had little need for company and enough concerns to keep his mind busy between what to do when they caught up to Cloud and what to do about his strange episode. He was content with the sound of conversation surrounding him, giving him enough human contact by proxy that he didn’t feel he was missing anything. He had lived years this way. It was little trouble to slip back into old habit.

At least, it would have been, if Aeris had been willing to tolerate it.

The day after the episode, when Zack pulled toward Tifa and Barret and Sephiroth pulled away from them all, he kept catching her eyes following him. Every time he allowed himself to truly sink into his thoughts, he’d feel that he was watched. The first few times, he expected to look up and make eye contact with Zack; he was so used to his friend being the only one other than Cloud to bother to see if he was happy at all. He knew by now that Aeris was perceptive and that she cared about him as much as she did any other member of their party (likely more than the others, but that concept was so foreign to him that he refused to acknowledge it).

Though they both now knew that Aeris was watching, it took days for it to be addressed. She watched, and he allowed it, but did nothing about it. Usually, it would have mattered little to him if she wanted to keep an eye on him. But, while the episode didn’t repeat itself (though he didn’t know if it would stay that way), there were either lingering effects or smaller versions that continued.

Sudden, sharp headaches would appear and disappear in a blink, his hand more than once twitching up toward his temple in an aborted move to attempt to alleviate the pain. The whispers would return, a low murmur that prevented him from noticing when he was called. The screams would return, pulling his head to the side in a jerk as he tried to find the source of the sound, only to realize no one else could hear it. He glanced up and around as phantoms called his name. Only his twitching fingertips and sharp glances hinted that something was happening that hadn’t been before, but they were small, infrequent gestures. Zack, usually so aware of his friends, would have noticed quickly, but he had wholly thrown himself into the distraction of befriending the other party members. Sephiroth was, if anything, pleased that Zack didn’t notice, so he didn’t cause his friend undue stress over something they couldn’t prevent.

It did, however, make Aeris’s close watch concerning.

She let days go by without addressing the matter, so he hoped that she either hadn’t noticed, or had decided to let the matter slide. He (perhaps purposefully) didn’t consider that she was, instead, waiting until she was sure that her eyes weren’t tricking her and there _was_ an issue to be addressed.

He didn’t think much of it when Aeris fell in step beside him; she had done so more and more frequently as her vigil over him lasted. They walked side by side in silence, listening as Zack and Tifa teased Barret for his sloppy form when it came to fighting with anything other than his gun-arm.

Aeris laid a hand on his arm, making Sephiroth look up to her, eyebrows raised in question. Her pace slowed, pulling them further and further behind the others, until there was a sizable gap, their party split into two groups.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, utterly without prelude. He looked away from her, turning his gaze forward again.

“Nothing.”

“ _Sephiroth_.”

“Aeris.”

“You can talk to me, you know. I want to help.”

He sighed quietly.

“There’s nothing to be concerned over.”

“I’m concerned anyway; you might as well tell me.”

He glanced over at her, the line of his jaw tight with irritation. She smiled beatifically at him. They were still relatively new companions, but he knew well enough to tell she would be bull-headed about this. He looked forward again.

She would have to realize that he could be bull-headed as well.

After a long enough stretch of silence, she sighed.

“You’re sick, somehow, I know it. I can help, if you let me,” she said, and when he looked down, he met her large green eyes.

“How do you intend to do that?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

She pursed her lips for a second, hesitated for a breath, just long enough for Sephiroth to realize that she had a decision to make, that it wasn’t the straight forward matter of a potion or materia or a long, “healing” talk that she would offer.

“Hojo did a lot of things, but he raised you to be a warrior, right?”

Sephiroth watched her closely, from her expression to the way she refused to make eye contact. This conversation was broaching dangerous territory, the sort of topics that were off limits to near everyone, sometimes even Zack. The only person he had ever been wholly open with about the labs was Cloud, and that was because he had seen them as well. He would have cut the conversation off there, but, like Cloud, Aeris knew that particular hell. It made her safe to discuss this with.

“Among other things.”

“He raised me to be a healer. Among other things.”

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes on her. If Hojo was trying to create the perfect healer out of Aeris, it was surprising she hadn’t been dispatched to the war effort as well. Gods knew they could have used the help. They would have been a useful set, the perfect killer and the perfect healer. He was, immediately, grateful that she hadn’t been sent out when he had. She didn’t deserve to be in the hell that was that war.

Still, that sort of mercy wasn’t something Hojo was prone to extending. He was more concerned with use than anything else.

He realized quickly that the only sensible answer was that those “other things” were a bigger concern for Hojo than her healing capabilities. He was, just as quickly, curious about those other aspects, but he held his tongue. Aeris was already confiding more in him than she had to; he had no intention to press the matter.

He finally turned back to the group ahead of them and picked up his pace, using a brief touch to Aeris’s shoulder to encourage her to match him.

“We’ll finish this conversation tonight.”

They lapsed back into silence, but only briefly. With that stillness between them broken, Aeris seemed unwilling to let it form again. She set about pulling him into conversation the way Zack was with Tifa and Barret, the way he usually was with Sephiroth. It wasn’t the first time Aeris has decided it was her turn to keep him from isolated silence, but it had been growing more frequent as of late. She had seen Zack focusing more on Tifa and Barret, so she slipped into his place. As Zack’s friendship grew with the other two, Sephiroth’s grew with Aeris. He found himself, surprisingly, glad for it. Cloud had left a hole behind him, and while there was no way Aeris could fill that gap, never in a million years, her company soothed the ache. At first, it was only her similarities to Cloud that were a balm to that wound, but the more time that passed, the more her friendship seemed to be healing on its own. She grew out from under Cloud’s shadow, slowly becoming his friend in her own right, instead of a simple replacement.

While her company was, in many ways, helping, it did nothing to address the situation the episode had left in its wake, and he owed her the truth he had promised her earlier that day. That night, Aeris came to sit next to him in front of the fire and looked up at him with raised eyebrows. He nodded before returning his gaze to the low-burning fire.

“Headaches,” he said, without prelude. “They keep returning after one came a few days ago,  suddenly, intense enough that I nearly collapsed.”

He didn’t address the voices. Aeris knew he was holding back, but also knew that if she could help with the headaches, he would be willing to work with her on the rest.

“Face me, please,” she said, turning on the log that served as their bench to face Sephiroth. The two shifted, straddling the wood. Gently, Aeris lifted her hands, pausing mid-air until Sephiroth nodded his assent, and she cupped his face, his temples between her palms.

Her eyes closed, brows pinching in concentration. He could feel the magic around them, a familiar sensation, the universal tingle that heralded materia at use on a person, be it cure or demi or wall. It wasn’t a spell he recognized, though, not in effect or execution. Was it some sort of diagnostic magic? His thoughts kept tumbling over the matter as Aeris worked, not having much else to do in the silence. The magic was held for longer than he was expecting, a small bead of sweat slipping down her brow as she worked.

Eventually, she pulled her (now clammy) hands away, looking at him with lips pursed in frustration.

“There’s… something inside you,” she said, making it sound like an admission, like a confession.

“Quite a lot of mako,” Sephiroth suggested, only for her to shake her head.                                  

“The mako’s there, but it’s feeding this… other. Powering it. Feeding it.”

For perhaps the millionth time, Sephiroth cursed Hojo.

“Can you tell what it is?”

“I… I’m not sure. It’s nothing I recognize, and it’s not alive, but it’s—it’s hard to explain. It’s like a tether of some sort. This thing in you, it’s dead, but it’s connecting you to something else, something that’s very much alive. The mako is powering the tether and allowing whatever is on the other side to reach you. I’m not sure, but I think the headaches are from the thing on the other end trying to use the it. It’s pulling too hard, or shouting through it too loud. Like too much power going through a circuit and blowing it out.”

Sephiroth’s face grew more pinched as she spoke. The idea settled around him beyond poorly. Something having a hook in him, a string to pull, made him wildly uncomfortable. It reinforced every concern about control he’d ever had. Still, he preferred to be aware. With awareness came the ability to fight back, and that was what mattered to him most.

“I’ve been hearing voices calling me. Do you think that’s related?” he asked, though he already knew the answer, and wasn’t surprised to see her head bob.

“I think the call is the purpose. The headache is a side effect.”

“Is there a way to block it?”

She hesitated.

“Give me some time, I’ll see if I can find a way. It’ll be some trial and error at best, and I don’t know if any of it will work, but I’m happy to try.”

Sephiroth took a moment, always needing a moment to work himself up, to swallow his pride, but eventually, he said, “Thank you.”

As if she knew how much he hated those words, she beamed, as if given a gift.

“You’re welcome.”


	40. Chapter 40

Sephiroth tried very, very hard to try and remember a mission that was more frustrating than this one, and failed entirely; considering the amount of missions he’d been sent on, this was telling. The longer they travelled, the worse his condition grew. From a young age, he could trust almost nothing more than he could his own body. He knew his strengths, his weaknesses, his abilities inside and out, knew his power and constitution, and how hard he could push himself. As time passed, his body started failing him more and more, and while the only emotion he would acknowledge on the matter was frustration, there was an under layer of concern and fear. This was not the sort of mission where he could risk his body failing him, yet here he was, past the point of risk.

The call began coming more frequently. He learned to tolerate the sudden headaches, revealing little more than a grimace and a twitch of his hand as instinct pushed him to touch the ache between his temples. The voices were distracting when they came, sometimes loud enough to drown out conversation.  The only way he could think of to cope was to pull further away. He remained at the back of the group, where no one would be able to see his physical reactions. He stayed out of the conversations to avoid drawing attention to himself. Truly, he was only keeping the secret from Tifa and Barret at this point, but he refused to show weakness to them. He had to earn their respect, earn the right to lead them, much as he had when he’d first become a general. Weakness was the quickest way to lose them. Zack had seen him at his worst—Sephiroth knew he would never leave. He and Aeris trusted each other, and she continued to earn that trust by not only keeping his secret but attempting to help him with it.

Each night, Aeris stayed up with him, attempting to find the cause of his problem and heal it if she could. They made little progress, as she couldn’t hold whatever strange spell she was using for very long, but it eased his mind at least somewhat to know that they were attempting to be proactive, even if they had little to show for it. Zack, who had been quickly filled in on the details they had worked out about the situation and the extent of his affliction, stayed with them while Aeris worked.

Though Sephiroth protested, either Aeris or Zack tended to stay with him at the back of the group. They caught all of his little winces and twitches, though they kept their comments and concerns to themselves, only wanting to keep an eye on his health. 

It became increasingly hard for them to keep their peace, however, as things grew worse. As the calls came more often, they came more severely as well. More than once, he’d stumbled mid-stride, which wasn’t something Sephiroth could remember doing outside of the labs. The daytime effects were no worse than that, but it grew worse after dark, as if whatever the cause was had more time and energy to push against him at night. It was becoming uncomfortably common for him to slip or stumble so hard he had to physically catch himself, for him to fall to his knees under the assault. It alarmed and worried each of the three of them, but there was little more to do than what they already were.

Sephiroth wasn’t sure whether or not he was glad for the distraction when it came. His PHS, which had been almost entirely silent since he left Midgar, trilled loudly, interrupting the conversation between Zack, Barret, and Tifa. The entire group came to a halt, all eyes turning to him as he answered the call.

“Sephiroth speaking.”

“General Sephiroth, you requested to be updated about any developments involving SOLDIER First Class Cloud Strife.”

“I did.”

“He was… seen in Junon. He stole a trooper’s uniform to board a military ship. Just before they reached port in Costa del Sol, he disabled all out-bound communication. He attacked the troopers and commanding officers before stealing an emergency raft to get to shore. The ship has just been brought to port and is being searched and investigated now. There were no survivors. We only know it’s Strife because he removed his trooper helmet when he was finished. He looked directly at a small surveillance camera, approached it, and waited for approximately ten seconds before putting his helmet back on and leaving the ship. There was nothing special about that camera in particular to draw his attention toward it and no recorded audio or visual cue that pulled his attention from the camera to cause him to put the helmet back on. We have troopers patrolling del Sol and questioning residents to see if anyone has seen him, but we have no leads. It’s like he vanished as soon as he left the ship.”

“Continue to investigate the ship and gather any surveillance tapes. Send the tapes to my PHS. Do not continue the search for him in del Sol; I will come to investigate personally. No one is to approach him if he is seen. Send a chopper with three troopers outside Fort Condor. I’ll be there by the end of tomorrow.”

“Understood, sir. It will be waiting for you.”

Sephiroth flipped his PHS closed with a little more force than necessary, making it clack together. When he looked up, it was to see four expectant faces.

“He went to Junon. He boarded a ship disguised as a trooper and killed everyone on board. He’s expected to be in Costa del Sol, but there’s been no sighting of him on land yet.”

Barret cursed and turned to stomp away angrily. Tifa echoed him quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose. Zack scrubbed his hands over his face, looking exhausted, and sighed in time with Aeris, who turned her gaze down to her toes.

“We’ll rendezvous with them outside Fort Condor. Barret, Tifa, and Aeris will wear the uniforms from the troopers accompanying the helicopter and use the helmets while we’re in ShinRa controlled areas, with Zack and I as your commanding officers. Hopefully, we can make up the time wasted heading toward Mideel with the flight.”

Aeris and Tifa nodded their assent while Barret cursed a little louder and kicked a nearby rock as hard as he could before turning and scowling at Sephiroth. The general knew he was looking for an apology for leading them toward Mideel instead of Junon, but he did nothing more than stare the man down. He would not apologize for taking the most logical course of action, and he could see Barret’s anger rising as he refused to do anything more than hold eye contact. Zack went over and clapped a hand on Barret’s shoulder, breaking the stand-off as Barret turned to look at him.

“We’ll catch up to him. We know where he went and we’re going to make up the lost time. We just have to keep moving forward, right?”

Barret only snorted and walked away, but it was better than tension building into a fight. Without further discussion, Sephiroth turned, adjusting their course toward Fort Condor by moving through a forest. The others quickly fell in line.

The silence after lasted longer than Sephiroth had expected, making him all the more grateful when Zack called him to the back of the group. Aeris, unprompted, switched places with him and pulled the other two into conversation, thankfully covering his own with Zack when he reached the man.

“We still don’t really have a plan for what to do when we do find him; we’re running out of time,” Zack said, keeping his voice just low enough that the other conversation hid his words.

“We don’t have many options. We’ll have to subdue him somehow,” Sephiroth answered, matching his friend’s quiet.

“Well, words didn’t seem to do it. What, are we just gonna attack him on sight?” Zack asked, and it was clear from his tone what he thought of that idea.

“What other options do we have, Zack?” Sephiroth’s tone made it equally clear that he agreed with Zack about the idea’s merits.

“Not many, but there has to be _something_.”

“Our options are a physical fight or sedatives, and the projectile sedatives ShinRa has aren’t strong enough to bring down a SOLDIER. They have to be injected, and for us to do that, we need to stop him some other way. A fight is really our only option left.”

“We can’t put the other three at that sort of risk, Sephiroth.”

“Between the two of us, we ought to be able to keep his attention on us and away from them. Barret can provide cover fire, Tifa says she knows how to use materia and can provide further cover that way, and Aeris is a very capable healer. We’ll do better with their help than without it.”

“But they’re _civilians_ and this is _Cloud_.”

“They knew that when they agreed to join us.”

“Not really. All they know about him is ShinRa propaganda and what we’ve told them. They haven’t really seen him in action, and I can almost guarantee that they’re underestimating him. Anyone who’s seen how small he is does, even if they’ve been warned.”

“That’s why we have them keep their distance.”

“What if they don’t stay far enough away? What if Cloud targets them instead?”

“Zack, we both know you know better than to be hung up on ‘what if’s. You can’t prepare for all of them, and our options _are_ limited. That aside, do you really think they’ll hang back and do nothing, even if we tell them to?”

Sephiroth watched as Zack immediately scowled and looked away; they both knew the answer to that question.

Eventually, Zack looked back and said, “So, what, we pick a fight and pray?”

“If you have any better ideas, I’d love to hear them.”

This time, when Zack looked away, he cursed quietly.

“We knew this would be difficult the second Cloud left,” Sephiroth said. “We can’t do nothing, so we have to make the best of what we have.”

Zack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, saying, “I know, I know, I just don’t—”

His words were cut off, instinct making Zack duck and Sephiroth lean back as an over-large shuriken came flying from between the trees on their left before completing an arch and disappearing again into the woods. The SOLDIERs had their weapons drawn before the other three even fully knew what was happening.

The attack was followed by a second, fire erupting between the SOLDIERs, Zack narrowly dodging again, Sephiroth quickly shaking the flames from his coat where they caught. A second spell, ice this time, slammed into Zack as a form quickly approached through the trees. While he was still in the process of catching himself, the girl who ducked out from the woods cast Stop, freezing Zack leaning precariously far back, his own weight nearly toppling him.

Sephiroth was in motion before she could get the word out, but he heard when Aeris called, “Wait!”

He had too much momentum at that point to pull his strike fully, but he was able to change course, the pommel of Masamune smacking into the girl’s temple. She dropped, quick and hard, to the forest floor.

He turned to raise an eyebrow at Aeris, unsure of why she had stopped him at all.

“Don’t hurt her, she’s not with ShinRa,” she said. Sephiroth blinked slowly before shaking his head and extending a hand and removing the spell on Zack.

“She doesn’t need to be with ShinRa to be a threat,” he countered as Zack stumbled, coming out of his frozen state. He pulled himself upright quickly, shook his head to clear the effects, glanced once at Aeris, having heard the conversation, and moved to the girl.

“She’s not our enemy,” Aeris argued.

Sephiroth turned back to her, Zack moving in his peripherals, just close enough for him to notice when his lieutenant tossed the girl’s weapon to him, snatching it easily out of the air.

“She approached us and used lethal force. That makes her an enemy,” he said, bewildered that he even had to offer the explanation. Zack continued to disarm her, removing the materia from the bangle on her wrist.

“But we don’t know why! What if it’s a misunderstanding?”

“I fail to see the—”

The entire group turned to look at the girl as she groaned, sitting upright and rubbing at her bloodied temple, where Sephiroth had struck her.

“Man, I can’t believe I lost,” she grumbled, pulling herself to her feet, shaking her head to clear it.

Zack’s look of seriousness, matching with Sephiroth’s, was only slightly tempered by the curiosity mirrored in Tifa and Aeris. Barret had his arms folded, not looking happy with the situation.

When the girl realized the group was still there, was staring at her, she dropped into a fighting stance, saying, “You jerk! One more time, let’s go one more time!”

Zack and Sephiroth looked to each other, completely bewildered.

With a smile, Aeris said, “See? Misunderstanding.”

Sephiroth entirely ignored her when he bluntly said, “No.”

The girl looked around for her weapon, but when she saw it in Sephiroth’s hand, she punched her right fist into her left palm, repeating the gesture, clearly meaning it as a threat. Sephiroth and Zack exchanged another look of confusion, while Tifa and Aeris settled into amusement-tinged curiosity. Barret was frowning, unsure of what was happening.

“Thinking of running away? Stay and fight! _Fight_ , I said!”

There was a brief pause, no one quite sure of what was happening, but she spoke again before anyone could figure out what to say.

“C’mon, what’s the matter?” she taunted, a supremely confident look coming over her face. “You’re pretty scared of me, huh?”

Zack opened his mouth to answer, but Sephiroth beat him to the punch, tone dripping with sarcasm as he said, “Petrified.”

It earned a snort of amusement from Barret and Tifa, an eye roll from Zack, and a sigh from Aeris.

“Hmm, just as I thought. What do you expect with my skills?”

Zack and Sephiroth shared another look, this time one of disbelief. Sephiroth hadn’t thought he’d hit her _that_ hard.

“Good luck to you guys too. If you feel up to it, we can go another round. Later!”

She turned around and strolled about five feet into the forest before pausing and turning around, looking expectant.

When Sephiroth did nothing but raise his eyebrows, she said, “I’m really gonna leave! _Really!_ ”

“Feel free,” Sephiroth answered. He had no idea where she was going with this, but when he glanced among the rest of his group, he saw that everyone, now, had adopted a look of amusement.

“Hold on a second,” Zack called, and Sephiroth’s eyes cut to him again. What in the world was happening?

The girl turned around, tossing her head a little, a cocky grin on her face.

“What is it, you still have something for me?” she said. She paused, but it didn’t last more than a breath before she continued, cutting off any potential reply. “Hmm. So, is that it?”

Sephiroth opened his mouth to answer, complete confusion writ large on his face, but she spoke again. He felt a flicker of frustration. Why did she keep asking so many questions if she didn’t want them answered?

“I know you want my help since I’m so good!” she declared. Sephiroth heard another snort of amusement, and looked around to see grins on most faces.

This was beyond him.

“You want me to go with you?”

Sephiroth said, “No,” at the exact same time Aeris said, “Yes.”

The group all looked to each other. The girl was about to say something to draw the attention back to her, but she was interrupted.

“Absolutely not,” Sephiroth said, stern as he could be.

“Come on,” Aeris said. “What could it hurt? We shouldn’t leave her out here on her own.”

“We found her out here on her own. Clearly she’s _been_ out here on her own. She can apparently handle it, and if she can’t, it isn’t our business or our problem,” he answered, watching Aeris frown.

“That’s just cold,” she said. “She doesn’t have to _stay_ with us, but we can get her as far as Fort Condor.”

“I truly don’t see why her situation has anything to do with us.”

“She’s young and she’s in the middle of a monster-infested forest by herself.”

“A situation that she got _herself_ into.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help her get _out_ of it.”

“She has a weapon and materia she is evidently able to use. She can handle herself.”

“That doesn’t mean she couldn’t use help.”

“No, but it does make her accompanying us unnecessary.”

Aeris sighed in frustration and turned to Zack, saying, “Can you just reason with him?”

Sephiroth turned to his friend, eyebrows raised in expectation as Zack sighed.

“It wouldn’t really hurt to bring her,” Zack said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“You can’t be serious.”

“We’re not even two days from Fort Condor. She won’t slow us down and she won’t stay with us long.”

“You know how serious this mission is, Zack. She can’t come with us.”

“He’s on another _continent_ , she won’t even see him.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“It kind of is. We might as well.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, what could it hurt?”

“Everyone in our party, potentially.”

“We both know you wouldn’t let that happen.”

Sephiroth paused, his lips pressed into a thin line of frustration.

Eventually, he said, “She’s your responsibility.” With that, he tossed her weapon at her feet, one blade stuck into the ground, another only barely missing her shin, making her jump back in alarm.

“Move,” Sephiroth ordered, staring the rest of his group down until they started walking. None of them particularly liked Sephiroth commanding them that way, and it was something he largely avoided. But this situation was ridiculous, this argument was ridiculous, this girl was ridiculous, and his temper was worn thin. The rest, knowing that allowing her to come with them was the only concession Sephiroth would make, decided not to fight him any further.

Aeris dropped back with Zack to talk to the girl and get her moving with them, and Sephiroth heard her crowing and boasting. He found himself wishing for those strange voices to return to drown her noise out.

They couldn’t reach Fort Condor soon enough.


	41. Chapter 41

When the girl, who later introduced herself as Yuffie, joined their group, he knew she would wear on his patience. What he didn’t realize was how _much_.

The second Zack and Aeris pulled her into conversation, she bounced back from the exchange, and she hadn’t shut up since. She was overly chipper, overly boastful, and overly _loud_ , all of which being traits he had little time for. Her over-confidence reminded him heavily of new SOLDIER recruits and those who had just been promoted, particularly if they were promoted quickly. The status went to their heads, suddenly convinced their battle prowess was beyond compare, that they were invincible. He had little patience for those who bragged and had yet to prove themselves. Respect in battle had to be earned, and this “Great Ninja Yuffie,” as she called herself, had done anything but. While she had landed a few hits on Zack, she had been subdued in, at most, thirty seconds. If he had to hear her talk about these amazing “skills” she had yet to show for much longer, he would make her put them to the test for the second time. He was more than willing to spar with her repeatedly if it was necessary to take that inflated ego down a peg.

Even if he could have handled the unearned bravado, the sheer volume of her conversation would have worn his temper thin. Zack was boisterous and could be plenty loud when he wanted, but it wasn’t his default setting, the way it seemed to be with Yuffie. They had increasing amounts of monster attacks since she joined their group, and each time a new threat approached, he gave Zack a scathing look. They both knew her loudness was drawing the nearby beasts, but watching Zack only shrug every single time was wearing on him as much as the girl’s volume.

Though he would never admit it out loud, he could at least concede to himself that Yuffie was good for morale. It was clear that the rest of the party found her antics endearing and her vivacious optimism infectious. The group’s mood, since he received the news from Junon, had been exceedingly low. Despite investing time into considering the problem, he’d found no solution that he could implement himself. This Yuffie, however, had all of the others, even Barret, laughing sincerely. He’d told himself over and over that the next time her voice drew an attack, that would be it—he would put his foot down and end this nonsense. But then she would say something, and cheer would sweep through the party, and he knew it would just not be in their best interest to send her away.

Despite the influx of skirmishes and the soaring level of his irritation, the rest of the day passed relatively well. There was no real issue until they were setting up camp.

As usual, Sephiroth and Zack were responsible for building tents and hauling large nearby rocks and logs to provide seating around their campfire. They had two tents, Tifa and Aeris sharing one, Barret, Zack, and Sephiroth in the second. It would have been a tight fit, but Zack and Sephiroth were able to get by on less sleep and manned the entirety of guard duty between the two of them, so that only one of them was in the tent at a time. Aeris was unloading their supplies: bed rolls, cooking supplies, other essentials. Tifa and Yuffie had just returned from gathering firewood, dropping it by Aeris as they discussed the best way to make sleeping arrangements. Sephiroth had tuned out their conversation, busy hauling a long-dead, fallen tree next to the girls at the campfire while Zack pitched their tents.

“Sephiroth, can you grab me another stake? I’m short one,” Zack called, not even looking up from where he was. Sephiroth settled the log in place and stood up, dusting off his hands as he went to their packs, but he stopped in his tracks as he looked up.

Yuffie had stopped in hers, looking at him like a deer in headlights.

Everyone but Zack saw the two of them freeze and stare at each other, a strange tension settling among the group.

Silence hung with Aeris, Tifa, and Barret looking between themselves and the frozen duo, until Zack called, “Seph? Where are—uh…”

Zack had peeked around the side of the tent to see what the hold-up was, trailing off into silence as he watched the stand-off in front of him.

After a long, long moment, Yuffie said, “Sephiroth?” Her voice trembled, her expression morphing. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what the emotion was, only that it was intense.

“Yes?” he answered, both eyebrows up now.

“ _The_ Sephiroth? ShinRa’s general?” she asked, her voice shaking off its tremor, growing into an intensity that matched her expression.

Sephiroth wasn’t used to this. People knew him on sight. No one had to _ask_ who he was. Everyone in Midgar had seen his face a thousand times in a thousand publications. Even when he went to remote areas, he was always accompanied by ShinRa operatives, always with a formal mission, usually with someone with PR training to handle the civilians, if there were any they came in contact with. Surrounded by his men, there was little doubt as to who he could be; if nothing else, the sight of uniformed SOLDIERs following his orders tipped people off. It hadn’t occurred to him that Yuffie might not know who he was, but he supposed she had seen him cave to Zack, as opposed to Zack outright following his command. Still, he wondered how she hadn’t been tipped off, if she couldn’t recognize him in uniform, how his name hadn’t been said until this point.

“… Yes,” he said, voice carrying a note of confusion. Even if she hadn’t recognized him, what was the fuss over? She had been with him for the majority of the day, knew that he wouldn’t harm her unless she pushed him to it. He couldn’t grasp why this seemed to be a monumental turning point for the girl.

That is, until he recognized the intense emotion on her face and in her eyes, the burning inferno of rage.

He remembered, hundreds of men, women, children looking at him that way, when they were pushed past the point of fear. When their pride turned to indignation that he _dared_. When they had nothing left to lose and wanted nothing more than to bring him down with them. To leave their mark across blood and bone, to make him suffer as they suffered.

She was from Wutai. Strange, that he hadn’t placed her accent before then, even if it was twisted with a hint of the south-east edge of the Eastern Continent, that particular Fort Condor drawl giving just enough cover that he hadn’t been able to pinpoint where she was from, not until he saw that proud, defiant anger he would never be able to forget.

There was only a half second where they looked at each other, recognizing one another for what they were, before they erupted into a flurry of action.

She snatched her weapon and leaped into the air, shouting that distinct Wutai battle cry that he was sure would always, always haunt him. Without thinking, he drew his blade and parried, mind now going a mile a minute, trying to figure out a solution, some way to end this without the bloodshed that would ruin the fledgling bond holding the trio and two SOLDIERs together. If they watched him kill a girl who had endeared herself to them, it wouldn’t matter that she drew first. She was young and she was liked. He was well-trained and battle-worn and ShinRa crowed that he was the best there ever was and ever would be. If he couldn’t take her down without bloodshed, that would be thrown in his face, and no matter what argument, however reasonable, he gave, he would lose this group, and that panicked him more than it should have. It was easy, in that moment, to put aside that fear, to ignore the fact that losing them should be an inconvenience at most, something he would be able to find a work-around to fix if need be. He didn’t _want_ to find a work-around, he didn’t see losing them as an inconvenience, though he had no idea where _that_ sentiment had come from, or how long it had been there. But the thought was only the briefest flicker before it was gracelessly shoved aside in favor of the moment.

Yuffie was quick, light on her feet and deft with her hands, but it was still a simple matter to block her bladed attacks. Yet, it was clear that her boasts weren’t _entirely_ unjustified, as she held her own better than expected, when she now knew just how quick he could move and could compensate at least somewhat. Their fight beforehand had been brief, and while this one wasn’t a true test of his skill, it was in a different category than their first.

Yuffie, like the best of Wutai’s fighters, was highly skilled with her materia. Her spells were cast lightning-quick and strong enough to rival SOLDIER levels. Her speed with her blade and her aptitude for magic made her more dangerous than he had expected. She wasn’t able to wield both magic and a blade simultaneously, the way he and Cloud could, but she alternated between the two much more swiftly than he would have anticipated, had he not known her homeland, hadn’t fought many, many of her people, trained as she was.

Their skirmish ended as quickly as it began, and just as suddenly. Zack had sprung into action as quick as he could, and it was over as soon as he did, a wordless cast of Stop ending the matter. Yuffie froze, leaning forward, shuriken held aloft.

“What the hell was that?” Zack asked, glancing up at Sephiroth, who reached over to take the shuriken from her grip while Zack stripped her bangle from her wrist, disarming her entirely, as they had before.

“She’s from Wutai,” he answered, absently spinning the shuriken in his palm. “She’s young, she would have been kept from the battles. She’d never seen me before, and I doubt she would have been given a physical description of my appearance, but I don’t imagine there’s a person in Wutai who doesn’t know my name, and think it with hate.”

It was a casual comment, a careless aside that seemed not to bother him in the slightest. There was no ego in the idea that the entirety of Wutai knew him, only a simple acceptance of fact. The idea that there was an entire nation that cursed his name didn’t seem to bother him.

Zack came to stand next to him, falling into line next to his commander—a long-practiced gesture. His hand was already outstretched when Sephiroth moved to hand the shuriken to him.

Barret, Tifa, and Aeris were watching in uncomfortable silence, glancing between themselves and the scene before them. They had forgotten, somewhere along the line, just who they were travelling with. They knew Sephiroth, the man, who loved a man turned monster and wanted to save him. They knew his dry humor, his quiet introversion, even his rare smile. That man had come to overshadow the General, the Demon of Wutai, the blood-soaked terror who brought an entire nation to heel. They had only seen him fight roaming monsters, never people. It was one thing to see the cold, calculating look in his eye while cutting down Kalm Fangs, and another to see him look at a teenage girl that way.

“What now?” Zack asked, staring at Yuffie, just as Sephiroth was.

“Make sure she’s entirely disarmed, bind her, and we’ll talk and see if we can come to an arrangement,” Sephiroth said, moving to a pack to find rope.

Tifa and Barret took to whispering to each other, unsure of what to do and if they should let the SOLDIERs continue on the way they were. Aeris watched in silence, arms folded over her chest.

Zack patted Yuffie down, brisk and practiced. He pulled a few more materia from the armor covering her arm and tossed them to the side in a small pile with her bangle and shuriken. By the time he finished, Sephiroth was back with the rope, which he tossed to Zack, not even remaining long enough to watch the man catch it. He grabbed a hold of each of the girl’s wrists, looking up as Zack unwound the rope. When he had a length prepared, Zack nodded, Sephiroth mirroring the action. Zack released the Stop spell, and Yuffie immediately struggled, but in a simple contest of strength, there was little question who the winner would be. Sephiroth wrenched her arms behind her back pressing her wrists together for Zack, who wound the rope around her wrists with a quickness that spoke to the fact that he had done this many, many times. Zack shifted his hands up to Yuffie’s shoulders, forcing her down to her knees once Sephiroth released her arms.

“You’ll be more comfortable if you sit,” Zack said, allowing just enough give that she would be able to shift, if she wanted. He only really pressed down when she began to struggle.

“Fuck you, ShinRa,” she spat.

“Hey, guys, don’t you think this is going a little too far? She’s just a kid,” Tifa said, stepping forward, unable to watch in silence any longer.

“She’s a threat to our entire mission,” Sephiroth said, never once looking up from the kneeling girl. “She knows who we are and where we’re going and will do everything she can to see us fail.”

Tifa and Yuffie spoke at the same time.

“I mean, I don’t really think…” Tifa said.

“You’re damn right I will,” Yuffie snapped.

Tifa looked down at her in surprise, watched the way she glared at Sephiroth with nothing but hate and a hope for violence. She let her mouth fall shut. Sephiroth looked up at her with one eyebrow raised, waited until she frowned and nodded, before looking back to Yuffie.

“I understand your position and your sentiment,” Sephiroth started, ignoring her disgusted scoff, “and I am under no illusion that there will ever be peace between us. What I will do is explain our mission and why you need to stand aside.”

She let out a sharp bark of laughter and sneered, “This ought to be rich.”

“Our current aims and that of ShinRa are not aligned,” he started, ignoring her snort in favor of continuing. “SOLDIER First Class Zack Fair and I are currently working with the leaders of AVALANCHE, an eco-terrorism—”

“Hey!” Barret protested, though Sephiroth continued over him.

“—group that has been working against ShinRa, primarily by destroying mako reactors. The other member of our company is a former prisoner of ShinRa, whose release was a collaboration between us and AVALANCHE. We’re working to track and subdue a threat that ShinRa has decided to ignore, to the threat of the public at large.”

Sephiroth was faintly surprised that Yuffie let him speak at all, much less listened. But her eyes were keen as she watched him, narrowed slightly as she focused on him. He knew he showed nothing, his SOLDIER mask in place, body language hidden entirely in parade rest. This was the man Yuffie expected, this was the cold, so-called heartless man who had torn her country in two. She expected that man, so he gave that performance to her. If nothing else, it would convince her of his seriousness.

“I am using what connections ShinRa can give me until our interests completely fall out of alignment, but I have no doubt that I will be ordered to stand down. I have no intention of doing so,” he said, before taking a pause.

The hesitation was only one beat, one breath, before he made his decision.

“You know what I have done while simply following orders.” It was a risk to bring up the war, and the way her face morphed into hatred showed it. “I am following my own orders now. I intend to allow nothing to stop me from completing my mission, and I believe you understand the lengths I will go to in order to do so.

“I am aware that you have no faith in my judgement or priorities. Take into consideration that three enemies of ShinRa are working with me in this effort. They agree that this is a cause worth fighting for, enough so that they are willing to work with me to be sure the job is complete. Do you understand what I’ve said thus far?”

Yuffie’s face wrinkled in irritation at the question, considering it down-talking instead of clarification. Sephiroth set that aside, focusing instead on the way that she listened with rapt attention as he spoke, the hate in her eyes tempered by curiosity and concern. He watched as she nodded her agreement, though he hadn’t expected the concession from her.

“I am willing to fully explain our situation and goals to you if you have interest in helping. If you want to separate from us, you can do so now or at Fort Condor, but do so with the understanding that if you attempt to thwart my mission in any way, I _will_ find you, and you will not be given the option for escape or compromise when I do. If you want to fight, we can do that as well, but I will not pull my blows. If you think that it would be a good idea to pretend to come with us just to kill me in the night, remember that it has been attempted many, many times before, and that I am still here. What is your decision?”

Sephiroth knew the others were there, could feel their eyes boring into him, but he paid them no heed. This was a matter to be settled one on one between him and Yuffie. He bore her no ill will, but accepted her hatred with ease born of familiarity. Many, many people hated him. That did not mean that he was unwilling or unable to work with those who did, as long as an accord could be reached—if he had, he never would have approached AVALANCHE to begin with.

As it stood, Yuffie didn’t exactly have an abundance of things to offer. But if she could work past her hatred, she would continue to be a powerful boost to morale. Not to mention, if their journey brought them to Wutai at some point, she could be their only foot in the door, the only way to pass through the country without blades being drawn at every turn. He knew having one girl vouch for him after all he had done wasn’t guaranteed to do anything more than confuse people before they launched into an attack anyway, but it was better than nothing, and he preferred to cover as many bases as possible.

He could see the wheels turning in Yuffie’s head, as she did quick thinking, tallying points and sorting arguments and shuffling feelings. Eventually, she lifted her chin in a look of pure defiance. Sephiroth knew that look and felt the sinking feeling of resignation in his chest. This was where she spit at him and declared she would sooner die than help him in anything other than a death wish.

“If it’s really as serious as you’re saying, I’m coming. You’re the last person I’d trust with the lives of others. Someone has to keep an eye on you, and I’m not trusting strangers to do it,” she said, with all the haughty air of a princess, that ego returning.

Sephiroth’s eyebrows raised, the answer not at all being what he expected. He glanced up at Zack, who did nothing but shrug. He looked back to the others; Barret looked impressed, Tifa looked surprised, and Aeris had a warm look of approval, all three of which being strange to him. He was used to the flat recognition of those he reported to, who praised him with the same dead tone that said he had served his function, fulfilled his use to them as if he were a hand tool. He was used to the unquestioning agreement of his subordinates, no emotion, no opinion one way or the other, just sure that he knew best. He wasn’t sure how to feel about these strange responses, so he turned his eyes back down to Yuffie.

“Anytime you wanna let me up,” she drawled, and Sephiroth had to bite back a sigh. He looked back up to Zack and tilted his chin up; his lieutenant knelt and began untying the ropes while the other three finally approached. With her arms freed, Yuffie popped to her feet and rubbed at her wrists, looking around at the others, but never quite letting Sephiroth out of her sight. Zack wrapped the rope in a loop, tying it off to return to their supplies. Sephiroth could see Yuffie’s bravado settling in around her again as she folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin imperiously.

“You’ve got a story to tell—start talking.”

Sephiroth had to force the irritation back down as it rose within him. With the crisis averted, he remembered just how annoying Yuffie could be.

He just hoped he wouldn’t regret this.


	42. Chapter 42

Sephiroth hadn’t been particularly fond of Yuffie, even before their “fight.” Her hatred wasn’t particularly tiring; he was used to the suspicious looks. That he could have ignored. He had always disliked her loud voice, but the way she all but _yelled_ pointed, rude comments about him was doing her no favors in his book. It certainly didn’t help that Barret found _every_ of those remarks funny, and that certain, “good” ones earned at least a smile from everyone. She liked to rush into battle without thought, picking fights that could have been avoided. She was of little use in survival areas: she could not cook, she wasn’t observant enough to gather what they needed in the wild, had no sense of direction. She was a burden, and irritating, and Sephiroth quietly hoped that she would change her mind about coming with them.

It didn’t help that she was painfully observant when it came to him. Much else fell by the wayside. She was quick to realize that he and Aeris, and occasionally Zack, were up much later than everyone else. He refused to allow Aeris to even acknowledge the problem of his “calls” when Yuffie was present, going so far as to grab her arm to interrupt her when she began to be honest with the girl. When she was clear that Yuffie was the last person he wanted to know any potential weakness of his, she took to shooing the girl away to sleep so they could have privacy.

It seemed she noticed every time he flinched or twitched when those calls came during the day, her eyes always shooting back to him, unwilling to let him out of her sight. At first it was little more than an annoyance, but, when they were finally reaching Fort Condor, when he was about to call in to be sure their ride was waiting, she caught him stumbling. He was not a person who stumbled.

She froze in place, and he did as well, the rest of the group going a few more paces before realizing the other two had fallen behind. Yuffie was watching him with eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Sephiroth wanted to pull up some scathing remark, anything to force her to move on, anything to defend himself in a moment of weakness. But the ache that caused him to stumble was only the first wave, only a precursor, and the second came stronger. It was instinct to reach up, dig the heel of his hand into his temple, squeeze his eyes shut. He heard someone talking, but everything sounded so far away, like he was underwater. The third wave made his knees buckle, only staying upright because someone managed to catch him.

Each wave came with a call of his name. The first was a whisper of one voice, the second was a call of a dozen, the third was a scream of a thousand. It left him shell-shocked, his ears ringing painfully, all surrounded sounds swallowed and crushed. It was like a gun went off an inch from his ear, felt like his head was both in a vise and being pried open. His head lolled forward, chin bouncing against his collarbone.

It might have been a moment before the world finally settled in around him, might have been a year. He looked up, blinking slow and heavy as he looked around. The expressions on everyone’s faces were still blurred, but he could tell all eyes were on him. His mind shot into damage control mode, fishing around for some excuse, some explanation to hide the truth, to mask any moment of weakness, to present nothing but a solid front made of ice and steel. His mind was racing as he shifted, taking all of his weight back on his own feet, though Zack, who was the one who caught him, didn’t let him go. He shook his head, trying to clear the last of the effects, before looking up, his surroundings finally crisp again.

Barret looked confused and wary; he had no idea what happened, but didn’t like the idea of a man as strong as Sephiroth losing control in any way. Tifa shared that hesitance, but there was also concern written on her face, if not quite as much as was on Aeris’s. Yuffie had all of that wariness but with a tinge of fear, the kind that put people on the defensive, that kicked in the fight or flight response.

Zack was the only one who moved, the only one who said a word. His hand was still wrapped around Sephiroth’s bicep, but he moved around to stand in front of his friend and take his other arm in his hand. Quietly, Sephiroth was glad for the move, as it cut him off from the others.

“You okay?” Zack asked. He wasn’t okay. It was painfully, painfully clear to everyone present that he wasn’t okay.

But asking gave Sephiroth the chance to nod, to say, “Of course.”

It also gave Yuffie the chance to snap, “ _Bullshit_.”

Zack’s eyes closed in frustration and exasperation, knowing full well that she wouldn’t know when to leave well enough alone.

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes at her over Zack’s shoulder.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, only that he had to defend himself, put his foot down before this got out of hand. It was instinct, now, to squash insubordination of any sort, and he forgot in that moment that his group was not made up of SOLDIERs or troopers, and that he had no relevant rank to pull in this moment. It was also instinct to erase any hint of weakness, to overcompensate, to not only ensure those around him that he had no vulnerabilities, but make them forget that they had any concerns about the matter to begin with.

But the second he opened his mouth to retaliate, Aeris interrupted, putting one hand on Yuffie’s shoulder and saying, “Calm down.”

Yet the girl jerked her shoulder out of her grasp and snapped, “Don’t tell me to calm down! He’s dangerous enough as is, we’re fucked if he loses his marbles.”

Barret shrugged a shoulder, conceding the point and Tifa simply looked anxious, but Zack shot Yuffie a dirty look for the remark, which she utterly ignored.

“He isn’t losing his marbles,” Aeris reassured as Zack stepped out of the way, no longer keeping Sephiroth from the group, but falling in line beside him, presenting a unified front.

“So you know what’s going on?” Yuffie asked, looking somewhere between suspicious and hopeful.

“I know enough,” Aeris said, and that was enough for Barret and Tifa to perk up too.

“What’s going on?” Barret asked immediately, hating few things more than being left in the dark.

“Nothing to worry about,” Aeris said, that same calming tone in her voice, though it seemed to have little effect.

“If he does that in a fight, we’ll be in trouble,” Tifa said hesitantly.

“It won’t be an issue,” Sephiroth said, tone flat, brooking no argument. Tifa didn’t look convinced, but she did keep the rest of her concerns to herself.

Unfortunately, there seemed to be no tone in the world that would get Yuffie to shut up when she didn’t want to.

“’Won’t be an issue’ my ass! Who’s gonna cover for you if you mess up, huh?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, face morphing into a mask of cool disdain, saying, “I didn’t the _Great Ninja Yuffie_ needed help from anyone in battle.”

He watched as she spluttered, fumbled for a second before saying, “Yeah, well, I don’t! I just don’t want you getting taken out and me having to fix your mess.”

“If you’re so skilled, I doubt it would be much trouble for you,” Sephiroth said, slipping into Shinra-Board-Meeting Mode. Everything that came out of him was dry, sarcastic yet polite enough that it would be unreasonable to call him on it, being difficult just for the sake of being difficult until it was so irritating the other person backed down, forcing them to admit defeat or lose face.

“It wouldn’t! I’m just—uh, worried about the others!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t be powerful enough to protect them?” he asked. He heard Zack snort next to him—this was a dance he had seen plenty of times. Normally, he moved to rein Sephiroth in before the other party could get offended, but he did nothing this time. Yuffie was a stranger, not a board member who could make their lives hell, and it was better handled this way than coming to blows.

“I—I could!”

“You don’t sound very certain of that.”

“I _am_ certain! I could protect everyone if I needed to!”

“Then why am I your concern at all? Are you saying you would _care_ if I fell in battle?”

“Absolutely not! I’d die first!”

Sephiroth hummed and tilted his head before saying, “If that’s the case, I fail to see why we have a problem at all.”

“I—! I—we, we don’t!” she snapped. By this point she looked as flustered as she was frustrated and turned on her heel, storming ahead of them. Tifa and Barret looked between themselves, trying to decide their stance on the matter. Barret only shrugged, and when Aeris nodded as they glanced to her, Tifa nodded herself, and both set off behind Yuffie. Aeris turned back to Zack and Sephiroth, a look of concern on her face, but when Zack shook his head slightly, she took off at a jog, catching up to Yuffie and pulling her into a conversation that the girl would hopefully find less irritating.

Zack and Sephiroth waited until there was a gap between them and the group before resuming the trek themselves.

“It’s getting worse,” Zack said, voice hushed as he looked up to his friend. Sephiroth looked weary and resigned.

“Aeris still isn’t sure what the cause is; she can’t heal a mystery,” he said, and it sounded recited, like he told himself that often to placate his own need for action.

“I don’t like admitting it either, but Yuffie has a point. That happens in a fight, you’re gonna be in trouble. I can’t guarantee that I can cover you,” Zack said, eyebrows pinched in concern, but Sephiroth shook his head.

“Don’t. I wouldn’t want you distracted in battle, trying to watch me. You know how fast I heal. I can take a few hits.”

“You’re still human, Seph. Sometimes, all it takes is one good hit.”

“It won’t come to that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your concern over me in battle would distract you and put both of us in a vulnerable position. We can’t both fall in battle because your focus was split.”

“Wow, okay, let’s _not_ plan our hypotheticals around you _dying_ , alright?”

Sephiroth shrugged lightly.

“It’s always best to prepare for the worst.”

“This is ridiculous. We need a plan, not aimless negativity.”

“What plan? There’s nothing to plan _for_. You can’t be guaranteed to cover me without risking your own safety, and that isn’t an option. If it happens during battle and compromises me, that’s my concern.”

Sephiroth shouldn’t have been so surprised when Zack punched his shoulder.

“Don’t be a selfish ass,” he snapped, just loud enough that Tifa glanced back at him. He lowered his voice. “You get hurt, gods forbid you _die_ , it’s my concern too, okay?”

“Sentimentality can be detrimental in a fight,” Sephiroth said, though he softened in spite of his words. Zack seemed to notice that more than what he actually said.

“Your shitty attitude is detrimental to my mental health,” Zack countered, looking forward again, elbowing his friend in the side. Sephiroth huffed a laugh that Zack only knew _was_ a laugh from long exposure to the sound.

“It’s a good thing your insubordination isn’t contagious,” Sephiroth answered, finally pulling out his PHS to make the call he had intended to before his standoff with Yuffie.

“Good thing no one else here is actually your subordinate.”

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, but caught Zack grin in response from the corner of his eye. He put the matter aside to focus on securing their ride and making sure they had enough uniforms to provide disguises for everyone, now that they had a spare tagalong.

It was easier to forget the concerns Yuffie raised when he surrounded himself with Zack’s humor and work, after all.


	43. Chapter 43

Much to the surprise to the majority of the group, there was little issue with getting them into Fort Condor and then on the chopper to Junon. No one looked at them twice; no one needed to. All they needed was to see Sephiroth in the lead and everything fell into place. The few people that saw the group without trooper helmets on hadn’t been in Midgar and didn’t recognize them, and that was truly the only risky part of the mission. If people didn’t suspect Sephiroth and Zack marching in with four strangers, they certainly didn’t suspect them with four troopers.

The only remaining moment of risk was when, on the helicopter, Yuffie had to yank off her helmet to throw up over the edge, but as they were unaccompanied by anyone other than the otherwise occupied pilot, the only actual concern was her falling out.

When they landed, the pilot was promptly dismissed, but Sephiroth stopped the others before they could exit.

“Until it’s safe for you to change out of the uniforms, I need you to stay silent. Troopers, as a rule, are too afraid to speak unless spoken to while I’m present, and disagreement will blow our cover immediately. If you have any problems with anything I do, we can sort it out when we’re safe.”

There was a mix of ready agreement and grumbling (mostly from Yuffie), but they fell in line regardless.

They had seen it in Fort Condor, but it was still remarkable to the party to watch Sephiroth transform into the General.  The man was by no means a laid back person at any point in time. Still, a sudden, surprising level of seriousness and formality came around him the second he stepped out of the helicopter. Even his posture was different. The entire group was guilty of thinking him a stiff, cold man, and on some level, that was absolutely true. But surrounded by Shinra, there was no hint of the softness that was sometimes in his eyes; there wasn’t even that faint trace of smile. Every part of him was flint and steel, ice and snow. It made most of them wonder just what had happened to make him this way. They knew the propaganda and the stories Shinra told, and they had believed them. Right up until they saw the difference between the man himself and Shinra’s Sephiroth.

Zack didn’t blink twice at the change. He was so familiar with it at this point that he didn’t notice.

It seemed like all military staff stopped to salute Sephiroth as he walked by, though the man didn’t give even passing acknowledgement to most. Those in SOLDIER uniform got a brisk nod, as did those in fancier uniforms, whom the others assumed were commanders of some sort.

Zack, on the other hand, smiled and nodded readily. They were starting to see where the stories of their dichotomy were coming from.

Eventually, Sephiroth finished leading them to the docks, where there were multiple ships, but only one under guard. They made directly for it.

Sephiroth didn’t have to pause, show identification, or do anything. The troopers standing guard simply parted with a salute to reveal a SOLDIER, who had been leaning against a railing behind them. The man stood upright and saluted as well.

“At ease,” Sephiroth said, speaking for the first time since they exited the helicopter. “Report.”

“Sir, this is the ship Cloud Strife used to reach Costa del Sol. It was towed back and the bodies were removed to be taken care of, but the rest has been left as is for your inspection.”

“Good. Is there camera footage?”

“Yessir. There’s a security office inside the ship; the originals are there and a copy has been made.”

“Have the copy sent to me and a ship made ready to take my company and I to Costa del Sol when I’ve finished.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Dismissed,” Sephiroth said, and when the troopers remained while the SOLDIER left, he said, “You’re dismissed as well.”

The troopers left without a second’s hesitation, likely bored of standing guard and more than happy to listen to their superior officer. When they were out of earshot, Sephiroth turned to the others.

“I expect it will be a bloodbath in there. Those with a weak stomach should wait out here; it’s unnecessary for all of us to go in and it will look better if we leave guards out here.”

“Well, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to stand guard, so I’ll stay here,” Yuffie said. No one believed that was her only motivation, but they let it slide.

No one else answered, but everyone had a hard time not looking at Aeris. She was likely the most sensitive person there. If there was anyone who would be upset by a lot of gore, it would be her.

Sephiroth didn’t look to her because he knew better. She was raised in the labs. She was raised as a _healer_ in the labs. He was certain she’d seen more than her fair share of dead bodies. No, his concern was for Barret and Tifa. Both knew how to fight and had experience in their terrorist attacks on the reactors. They’d seen dead bodies before, sure. But there was a difference between a dead body and a mutilated body, and Sephiroth wasn’t sure how well they’d stomach it. Barret, he knew, would be too proud to take the offer, but he hoped to spare Tifa while also getting Yuffie out of the way. But it was her decision in the end.

He glanced around at everyone in one final confirmation and then, with a nod, proceeded into the ship.

It was much as he expected.

There were no bodies to be found, but copious amounts of blood. It reminded Sephiroth of the way the Science Department looked when Cloud was done with it, and he didn’t like the idea that he’d do a repeat performance with strangers he had no grudge against. They were still in the first room when Tifa turned green. She bowed out at the second. Barret lasted until they got on deck, where he called to Tifa, asked if they needed him to help guard and, when she said they did, he too left.

It was only Sephiroth, Zack, and Aeris who toured the entire ship. Sephiroth and Zack examined everything with an almost clinical detachment. This was nothing they hadn’t seen before. This was nothing they hadn’t seen many times in the Wutai War. This was nothing they hadn’t caused themselves.

Aeris wasn’t quite the same. She was much in the same vein as the other two: undisturbed and nonchalant. There was, however, a sadness there, mourning the lives that were lost in a way that hadn’t occurred to either Zack or Sephiroth.

Eventually, they reached the security room, where they found the camera footage. They played through the events, watching closely.

Cloud had entered much as they had, disguised as a trooper. They had difficulty finding him at first. They only eventually found him when he pulled two familiar swords from a wooden crate. Aeris finally looked away when Cloud began mowing down the guards. He fought much as he always did, with a speed and dexterity that was frightening. It looked much as they thought it would, from what they knew of Cloud’s fighting and the state the ship was left in.

In fact, it was going exactly as expected until Cloud did something that made no sense at all. Halfway through, he left one room and entered a hallway. He stopped and removed his helmet, shook his hair out so that it puffed back up into its usual wild tangle, and then turned. He marched directly up to the camera and leaned up toward it. He couldn’t get very far, as he was a short man and the camera was mounted on the ceiling, but the quality was good enough that they could see it when he smiled.

The sight of the smile took Sephiroth a thousand miles away. That was a painfully familiar smile. It was soft and sweet and gentle. It was one he saw after kisses and when they laid lazily in bed. It was his goodnight smile and his good morning smile.

It unsettled him to see it blood-splattered.

He missed the way Zack glanced over at him, and Zack almost missed when Cloud mouthed, “I miss you.”

The smile flashed wider for a second, and then his head whipped around to the end of the hall, where more troopers were pouring in. The fight began again.

The rest of the footage continued as it had begun. Nothing changed about the slaughter, only that it would now be obvious to anyone watching exactly who was at fault.

When the ship was cleared, Cloud (after searching for a while) found how to lower the anchor, and then moved to a small boat that was attached to the side. He lowered it into the water and then was out of sight from the cameras, but presumably rowed to shore.

The three sat in silence for longer than any of them intended, watching the cameras continue to pan over the ship, riddled with bodies and dripping in gore. Eventually, Aeris set her hands on the SOLDIERs’ shoulders. It was all the prompting needed for the two men to stand and walk away quietly.

They left the ship to find Barret, Tifa, and Yuffie chatting with a distinct edge of nervousness in their voices. They were doing a poor job of pretending to be guards.

Tifa opened her mouth to speak, but Zack shook his head, and Sephiroth interrupted, “We’re through here. Let’s move.”

And they moved. Because he was, all over again, inarguably the General now, and the presence he radiated could likely intimidate a mountain into moving.

It was only made more intense by the riot of emotions he was bottling up.

They couldn’t get on their ship soon enough. They couldn’t cross the ocean soon enough. They couldn’t reach Costa del Sol soon enough.

They couldn’t reach Cloud soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I got side-tracked with other pieces but I'm back now and will hopefully get back to updating regularly!


	44. Chapter 44

Most of them had never been to Costa del Sol, but Sephiroth and Zack, who had passed through many times, found the usually pleasant experience soured by what they had just seen on the ship. The others, however, found the sand, sunshine, and surf to be uplifting. The sea breeze washed the stink of blood from their noses and the sun burned the sight from their eyes. Most of them felt like they could finally breathe again. Even Zack, who remained on edge, lightened somewhat. It was only Sephiroth who seemed impervious to del Sol’s charms. Sephiroth, and Aeris, who couldn’t get it out of her head that, underneath all that cold façade, he _must_ have been hurting.

But she kept her peace; it wasn’t the time or the place. Sephiroth led them immediately from the ship across the sand and toward the President’s Villa with his mind miles away, his feet finding the path on their own. He used his own keycard to open the door, to the surprise of all but Zack, as they had seen the placard by the door proclaiming who owned the building. The lieutenant knew full well the amount of perks and special treatment Sephiroth was given in exchange for his cooperation and strolled in, stretching as he went, as soon as the door was open and Sephiroth had headed in himself. With the entire group inside and the front door shut behind them, Sephiroth turned back, pulling out his PHS and typing on it as he did so.

“We know Cloud came through here recently. I doubt he’s still here, but hopefully we can find someone who will remember him,” he said and, with a click, every other PHS in the room went off. He pocketed his own. “I sent you all a picture of him. We’ll split into groups to cover more ground. Tifa and Barret, stay away from the docks. The odds are low, but Shinra personnel might recognize you. Keep your heads down if you see any.

“So they can stay together to avoid the troopers, Tifa and Barret will go together. Zack and I will go together because it would seem suspicious if I was wandering around with anyone else. That leaves Aeris and Yuffie together. Is this acceptable to everyone?”

There was a round of agreements. Some were begrudging, particularly Yuffie and Barret who disliked following Sephiroth’s orders, but his reasoning was sound. Neither could find a decent reason to protest. Sephiroth nodded when each had given their approval.

“If you go out in your trooper uniforms, make sure your helmet remains on. If you want to change, there are clothes upstairs. The guest bedrooms should have clothes for the women. Barret, you should be able to fit something from the master bedroom.”

Barret’s brow ticked in irritation.

“Are you saying I should wear Shinra’s clothes?”

“I am. Consider it taking from the rich. And, while your bulk is a result of very different reasons, you should be about the same size. Unless you’d like to try the women’s garments?”

Yuffie snorted a laugh that she quickly covered with a cough. Barret gave her a dirty look and then immediately marched away, stepping a little harder than necessary.

Zack wasn’t sure if the crack was a good sign of his returning humor, or a bad sign of a petty attempt to lash out. Sephiroth, trained by Shinra politicking and board meetings, knew well how to attack with words in a way that was subtle enough that protest couldn’t really be made. It was the only way to get back at the department heads sometimes.

Tifa and Yuffie made their way off with no fuss, but Aeris lingered. When the others were out of earshot, she turned to Sephiroth.

“Are you alright?” she asked. She was careful not to touch him, not to seem too worried, not to push. She expected that outright shows of concern from anyone other than Zack were so foreign to Sephiroth that he might just shut down.

He shrugged lightly.

“It was what I expected.”

Aeris paused, but then nodded. She could have pointed out that being right didn’t always make things okay, or that the scene meeting his brutal expectations was cause to be upset. Instead she left it, turning to follow the others to find clothes.

With everyone out of sight, Zack turned to Sephiroth.

Sephiroth prepared himself for another press about his feelings.

“Do you really think we’ll find anything this way?”

He was immediately grateful that Zack knew that now wasn’t the time or the place.

“Unlikely. If I were him, I would keep my helmet on until I left town, and he isn’t sloppy. But he let us and every member of Shinra who saw that tape know that it was him on that ship, when that was also counter-productive.”

“So, what, he’s leaving us a trail?”

“It’s possible. He has enough of a head start that he might feel confident enough in his distance that he’d let us follow. He can travel quicker than us when we have civilians with us.”

“Still, why string us along?”

“Overconfidence. In himself, primarily. He’s certain he’ll outrun us but he seems to want me to join him. If I’m focused on tracking him, I’m also focused on _him_. And if I don’t know where to find him, I can’t join him.”

“But I thought he was banking on the gap between us.”

“If I left the party and went out on my own, I could catch up. Either of us could, you know that.”

Zack frowned.

“It feels too easy.”

“It feels like a frustrating waste of time. We need to find out where he’s going so we can get ahead of him.”

“Last time we tried that, we got halfway to Mideel before finding out he went the opposite way.”

Sephiroth rubbed at his brow.

“I know. I know. We’ll just have to—think of something else. Brainstorm.”

“My least favorite word.”

“I’m aware.”

“Can we stall?”

“We have nothing else to do while everyone else changes. So unless you’d like to sit in silence, which I know you also hate, start throwing out ideas.”

Zack groaned and threw his hands up.

“Do I even need to? We all know you’re the brains—oh. Oh, no. Ah, shit.”

“… Zack?”

“You don’t think… you don’t think he’d go back to Nibelheim, do you?”

Sephiroth stiffened. Nibelheim had never been anything but a nightmare, from that first visit with the library, to its burning, to their return, which he now knew was when Jenova wormed her way back into Cloud’s head.

 Nibelheim wasn’t something he liked to think about.

“I don’t see why he would. Jenova isn’t there anymore, and the rest is ash.”

“The reactor, maybe? Or Shinra Manor?”

“Maybe the reactor would feel like a real homecoming to him now,” Sephiroth said with distaste, the thought sitting poorly with him. “Or he knows about something left in the Manor. It isn’t much, but it’s our best lead.”

“Are you sure we should get off his trail? I don’t want this to be another Mideel.”

Sephiroth folded his arms, tapping his finger lightly against his forearm.

“We could split the team.”

Zack gave him a look.

“We both know splitting the team doesn’t always work out well.”

“I’m aware. But it might be our best bet. One group goes to Nibelheim, the other follows his trail. You and I go to Nibelheim, the others follow him. If we’re right, we’ll have them out of the way if— _when_ we need to fight him.”

“What if they catch up to him first?”

“At his pace? They won’t. They’ll be able to keep us updated on where he’s going, and if he starts to head toward Nibelheim, we’ll know we’re right.”

Zack hesitated, but eventually sighed and ruffled his hair.

“Alright. But Aeris comes with us.”

“No.”

“Yes. She’s the only one with a shot at healing whatever’s going on with you, and if you get a spell like that while we’re fighting Cloud, it won’t end well.”

“She also has the least combat experience.”

“So she stays back and helps heal from a distance. This won’t be a crowded fight, Sephiroth, we don’t have to worry about spare monsters circling back to attack her.”

It was Sephiroth’s turn to pause.

“ _Fine_. But we ask her first. I’m not drawing her into the line of fire without her consent.”

“Fair enough. Do you still want to do the photo-goose-chase?”

Sephiroth shrugged.

“We can have the group following him do it. It might draw less attention if the two of us aren’t involved, anyway.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to get out of the tedious part.”

Zack and Sephiroth almost whipped around, to see Tifa with her arms folded.

“How long have you been standing there?” Sephiroth asked.

“Long enough,” she said, letting her arms fall as she approached.

“We weren’t trying to make decisions for everyone,” Zack blurted. “We were gonna ask.”

Tifa held up a hand.

“No, you’re right. It makes sense. And, frankly, I don’t want to go up against someone who can outdo Sephiroth when he wants to. Barret will come with me and Yuffie doesn’t like you. She’ll fuss because she wants to keep an eye on you, but if she’s still contributing and you have Aeris, she’ll agree.”

Zack and Sephiroth looked between one another. Tifa took a pointed step to the side.

“Go ask Aeris and get going. I’ll talk to the others and we’ll call you if anyone disagrees. If anyone gets upset that you left before it was all discussed, I’ll deal with it.”

“Tifa,” Zack said, “Are you su—”

“Yes, I’m sure. Go on.”

She made a shooing motion with her hands.

When Sephiroth hesitated, unsure if he should protest, Zack grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him in the direction Aeris went.

“It’s gonna be a shame leaving her,” Zack admitted. “It’s nice having someone practical around.”

“It _was_ nice finally having someone fill that gap.”

“Are you saying I’m not practical?”

“Zack, you are the most idealistic person I’ve ever met.”

“And you can’t be idealistic and practical?”

“No. Especially not while also being airheaded.”

“Alright, alright, you don’t need to list off all my _completely inaccurate_ flaws.”

“Idealistic, airheaded, and apparently delusional.”

“Now I see why Yuffie doesn’t like you.”


	45. Chapter 45

True to her word, Tifa took care of the rest of the team. Aeris was hesitant about coming with Zack and Sephiroth, arguing that she would slow them down, but in the end, everyone was persuaded into the arrangement.

 They were striking out directly for Nibelheim. Had it been just the two of them, the SOLDIERs would have opted for a straight path to the village, but that would have taken them winding through a mountain range. With a civilian, who would be significantly slowed down by the climbing and cold, it wasn’t an option. They would curve around the northern edge of the mountains until they came to the nearest pass by Mt. Nibel itself and only cross then.

Still, that would be slow going as it was. Their solution was one that highly irritated Aeris, but that she couldn’t find a good enough reason to argue against. They decided that one of them would carry her on their backs while they ran. It ended up being largely Sephiroth who carried her, by simple virtue of her weight slowing him down less than it did Zack. They were able to talk her into the arrangement primarily by reminding her that it would give her a chance to try and figure out what was wrong with Sephiroth.

And there clearly was still something wrong with Sephiroth. As they traveled the northern plains, he stumbled more than once, sometimes needed to come to a complete halt in order to not fall outright. He was plagued by headaches that he only tolerated successfully by virtue of a high pain tolerance. Only Aeris knew that it seemed to be getting worse, because she could hear his small gasps and hisses of pain that he thought were low enough to be private.

She used their nearness on the journey to try and fish around for the problem. She could only hold the spell she used to attempt to heal him for so long, but she tried everything. She tried using it at a low level to give her more time, she tried using it at such a high level that it caused visible tendrils of green magic to twine around them like wind.

Still, she was coming up with nothing. There was that tether stuck in him that let the call come through, and no matter how far down that line she tried to reach, she never got to the end of it. She tried to find the edge of where it connected to Sephiroth, only to find it fused into him. The best she could do was pick at the edges where she could see them, one by one, but it was fraying something inside Sephiroth to do so. He, unfortunately, didn’t know the details of what she was doing, and didn’t know quite how to put to words the new issue at hand. It was an ache at the heart of him, a dull throb that wouldn’t be soothed. The more Aeris pulled away, the clearer it was that the tether was embedded deep inside him. The more she peeled back, the more of a strange emptiness seemed to fill Sephiroth. There was some sort of gap that the tether was filling.

Their route took them to a would-be dead end, where part of the Western Continent mountain range pressed up against a bay. Sephiroth and Zack would have climbed, but they still had Aeris to consider. It was a little out of their way, but they made the decision to find a fishing village and buy a boat to cross. Once they had found a town, it didn’t take much to find someone who would part with their boat for enough gil and the promise that it could later be retrieved on the opposite side (and if Aeris decided to flirt a little to lower the price, well, it was her decision to make).

They were cramped in the boat, Sephiroth being by no means a small man and Zack not much shorter than he was. Aeris, seated between them while they rowed, was willing to tolerate the lack of space to be able to spend some time not literally clinging to Sephiroth. She was taking a break from her attempt at healing to catch her breath and regather her strength, and watching her quieted any lingering frustrations Zack or Sephiroth might have had about their pace. She was exhausted, more so than Zack and Sephiroth were after their long days of running. She was putting in more than enough effort to make up for any difficulties she caused.

While they had been coming more frequently, it always took the group by surprise when Sephiroth faltered. As before, the humming and buzzing and voices filled his ears. As before, the crippling pain came searing through his head. He dropped his oars, one hand gripping his forehead in pain, the other holding the seat hard enough that the wood cracked. An endless round of voices called his name over, and over, and over again. The call burned through the tether, singeing the sore edges where Aeris had pulled Sephiroth away from it. It was like sparks, like acid spread along the gaps, falling into that seemingly endless pit lodged in his chest. The emptiness that only seemed highlighted by the new gaps on the outskirts, as if the cracks were the only way to see inside enough to know there _was_ emptiness there at all.

It was that strange highlight, the silhouette of the tether against nothingness that made Sephiroth realize that it was a very familiar emptiness, if one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. For a second, he wasn’t on the boat, but what seemed like years ago. He was back in the small cell in the labs that Hojo had thrown him into after his latest round of the Mystery Injection, the strange red serum Hojo had introduced to his monthly regimen. The injection that brought him closer to Cloud, that formed the strange bond between them, the one that Cloud had long since walled off. That night in the labs when he was separated from Cloud for the first time after the injection, when that aching emptiness filled his chest and Cloud had first felt his way along that connection to fill that space.

And then he was back to present.

And then the call was gone.

“Cloud,” he whispered.

“… Sephiroth?” Zack asked.

“It’s Cloud.”

“What’s Cloud?”

Sephiroth dropped his hand from his face and looked up to his friend. For once, his face wasn’t utterly guarded. There was pain there, and longing, and something that might have been betrayal, might have been hope.

“The call,” he breathed. “It’s coming from Cloud.”

Zack stilled and Aeris’s brow furrowed. Neither liked the sound of that.

“The connection. The one between Cloud and I.”

Zack looked at him in confusion for a moment before remembering, brow furrowing.

“You guys mentioned that like once, and were never really specific about it.”

“We didn’t want to alarm you and weren’t sure how to explain it.”

 “Well try explaining it now,” Zack said, with something of an edge to his voice. They both knew better than to keep things from him for a stupid reason like that.

Sephiroth heard the scolding in his voice and felt something inside him flinch in guilt.

“We could feel each other. We could tell where each other were. We could feel each other’s emotions. It was like our minds were linked. Or, apparently, like we were tethered to one another.”

Aeris, partially to deescalate the tension that was building, interrupted, “You think that connection is the tether that the call is coming through.”

“It would make sense, wouldn’t it?” he said. “Cloud wants me to come with him. He’s calling me in the best way he knows how, in the _only_ way he knows how, from this distance.”

“Hold on,” Zack said. “If you two can feel where each other are, why don’t you know where he is now?”

“We learned how to build walls to separate ourselves for the sake of privacy. He’s had me blocked off since before he left Shinra. I didn’t consider this to be a possibility because he should have had to let down his walls to use the connection, and I would have felt him if he did.”

“I can’t believe you two mind-melded and didn’t tell me,” Zack muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face.

There was that flicker of guilt again.

But he didn’t offer excuses. Zack deserved better than that.

“The thing connecting you is dead, though,” Aeris interrupted. “The tether itself is dead, it’s just connecting you to something that’s alive.”

“I don’t know what the tether’s made of,” Sephiroth admitted. “Hojo was never forthcoming with the details of what he had done, and we can’t ask him now.”

“Does it have to do with Jenova? Is she making his end of things stronger?” Zack asked.

“It could be. He’s always been able to do more with it, though; I’m not sure why. But he always had to have the connection open for it to work before, I know that.”

“So, how do we fix it then?” Zack asked.

A hush fell over the group.

“The same way we have been, I guess,” Aeris said. “It’s good to know who’s on the other side and why, though. This isn’t good, but it’s better than a mystery.”

“Not by much,” Zack grumbled.

Sephiroth didn’t say anything else. His mind was too busy, going a mile a minute. Was this better or worse than the unknown? Would he be tempted to answer the call, now? Would the constant askance sway him? Would this let Cloud have a hold over him the way Jenova had a hold over Cloud?

There were too many variables and not enough answers.

He didn’t like not knowing.

He rowed in silence.

In fact, he was silent for most of the rest of the day, disturbed and concerned by the revelation. He was certain that Cloud had no real idea what he was doing; neither of them ever really understood that much about their connection. There was no way he knew about the headaches or the way his ears were left throbbing from the yelling of the call. There was no way he knew most anything about what he was causing. He guessed that Jenova told him it was possible and he did his best.

A part of him could imagine how much Cloud wanted to reach out to him, how badly he wanted to be near, the desperation for any sort of contact that made his call too strong; another part of him quashed that thought before it had room to grow, his heart not being able to handle the thought of Cloud missing him.

It kept circling back to that root cause for Sephiroth. Cloud wanted him with him. When this had all first begun, when Sephiroth had first run into Cloud in the snow outside Nibelheim, that desire for nearness was upsetting, if not disgusting. A connection he didn’t want, a tie to something he hated, a reminder of the things he disliked most about himself.

Now, it was all colored differently. He knew that superiority complex was back, that this was all Jenova-tainted again, but now there was real love thrown into the mix. Cloud wanted his lover back, and Sephiroth wanted the same. He wanted _his_ Cloud back. His Cloud was gone, replaced with some bastard child of that Cloud and Jenova’s, a strange mix of the man he loved and the man he hated that seemed determined to plague him. But he knew, he _knew_ that now that he knew who was calling, it would be hard not to answer.

Some part of him was convinced that he could talk Cloud around if he was just given a chance. He knew that he’d had that chance at the Mythril Mines and that it hadn’t worked, but he couldn’t help but think that it’d go differently if he tried again, or maybe if circumstances were different, or maybe, or maybe. It was hopeful and it was foolish, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t give up on Cloud. He told himself over and over again that, if it came down to it, he could fight him, but the more times he said it, the falser it sounded. He was desperate for this to work. And maybe, just maybe, if he answered Cloud’s call, met him on his terms, their conversation would go better than last time.

His mind was going in circles about whether or not that was a bad idea, or rather, how bad an idea it was. If Aeris and Zack kept their peace about his silence the rest of the day, it was because they chalked it up to being a hard discovery for him to come to terms with.

In fact, he remained silent until they rotated guard that night. Zack came out at 0200 so that Sephiroth could sleep until 0500 and they could do it all over again. Zack came to the smoldering ashes of the campfire yawning and rubbing his eyes before dropping into the spot Sephiroth had just vacated.

For the first time since that discovery, he opened his mouth to say, “Good night.”

Zack, too tired to realize that he finally spoke again, just waved lazily and rubbed his eye again.

Sephiroth retreated to his own bed roll, which he had laid out earlier that night when they set up camp. He did what he always did on missions when he ran on three hours of sleep for an extended period of time. He popped a tranquilizer to fall asleep as soon as he hit the pillow and get the most out of his allotted three hours, and would take a hyper as soon as he woke. Hojo would have skinned him alive for the practice and given him an hour long lecture about the abuse of products and the impact of prolonged drug use on the body, and it would have all been what Sephiroth already knew. But the fact of the matter was, when his missions required this kind of sleep schedule, he didn’t have the option to waste an hour trying to fall asleep.

He dry swallowed the tranquilizer and was out within minutes.

Just as he was falling asleep, the call came again. It would have pulled him back to being fully awake if his sleepiness wasn’t drug induced.

As it was, sleep pulled him under with a sharp yank and a whisper of, “Sephiroth,” in his ear.

A whisper of his name that echoed, and echoed, and echoed. It grew large and wide, as if filling a cavern, as if said by a hundred voices, until it contracted sharply, down to just one voice above him.

“Sephiroth,” the voice said, soft and sweet.

He blinked his eyes open and knew immediately that it was a dream.

Life right now would never allow him time to see Cloud like this.

They were in the middle of a meadow of wild, summer flowers, the sun shining softly above, the brightness cushioned by the occasional wisp of cloud. He was lying on his back, and Cloud was sitting next to him, cross legged and leaning down over him. He smiled when they made eye contact, full to the brim with love.

“There you are,” he said, reaching out to smooth the hair from Sephiroth’s face.

He had been ready to discount this as an average dream with poor, almost rude, timing, until he saw Cloud hesitate when he reached out. His hand just barely paused, as if he wasn’t sure if he still had permission for such casual gestures of affection. He plowed through anyway (with Sephiroth barely turning into the touch, not aware that he was doing so), not letting the uncertainty stop him, but the fact that it was there at all made this feel like more than a lucid dream.

“Are you really here?” Sephiroth asked, slowly sitting up and turning to face Cloud.

Cloud rested his elbows on his knees and his hands in his lap, the look on his face soft as he drank in the sight of Sephiroth, eyes memorizing every inch of his face.

“I am. I’ve been trying to reach you for so long, now. I didn’t think it’d ever work.”

His stomach sank. The circle his thoughts had been racing in all day came back, all his conflicting feelings on the matter eating at him.

“I know you have,” he said after a pause.

Cloud’s face brightened for a second, the sun peeking out after a storm.

“You have?” he asked, but then his expression flickered, faltered, fell. “You haven’t answered.”

“I didn’t know it was you at first.”

“You know now. Will you come?”

His heart panged.

To stall, he reached out and carefully took Cloud’s hand, glancing up at him mid-gesture to seek permission, only touching him once he had it. It hurt both that there was this distance between them now, that they felt the need to ask. He gently took Cloud’s hand between his, Cloud’s cupped in one of his, the fingers of his right splayed across his palm.

“You know I’m not a very eloquent man, Cloud.”

“I do.”

“I know that I need to phrase this very carefully, or it will sound wrong, and I don’t think I’ll be able to phrase it well.”

“Say it however you can, Sephiroth. I promise I’ll let you explain if it comes out bad.”

Sephiroth glanced up at him. When he was given a soft, golden smile, he looked back down at their hands. He laced their fingers together slowly, one finger at a time.

“I’m afraid, Cloud,” he admitted, a set of words that he wasn’t sure had ever come out of his mouth before.

“You never have to be afraid of me, Sephiroth,” Cloud answered, with a voice full of heartbreak. Sephiroth didn’t look up, sure that he couldn’t handle what he would see on his lover’s face.

“I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid for you.”

“… What does that mean?”

This was getting into trickier territory.

“I’m afraid that, the way things are going, you’re going to make decisions you’ll regret later. I remember how you felt about Kalm and Nibelheim, Cloud. They ate you alive from the inside out.”

“They don’t matter to me anymore.”

“That’s part of the problem,” Sephiroth said, risking looking up. Cloud’s face was muddy with emotion. There was hope and hurt, betrayal, confusion, conflict. He didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t see the issue.”

The only way he could think of to phrase this was to blame Jenova outright, and there wouldn’t be a bigger way to put his foot in his mouth. He hesitated.

“I think there is more than one side to this, and you’ve only been getting one. Will you give me a chance to show you another?”

Cloud now looked wary. His head ticked to the side, listening again, and Sephiroth squeezed his hand.

“No,” Sephiroth said. “Please, Cloud, I want to talk, just the two of us.”

The blond hesitated. He chewed on his lip and fidgeted, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

“I don’t know how to get us privacy.”

“Open our connection. We’ll find a way together.”

Cloud leaned away, but he left his hand entwined with Sephiroth’s.

“You’ll know where I am.”

“I can’t come with you if I don’t know where you are.”

“Do you want to come, then?”

“Ask me again after we talk.”

There was a long, long pause. Cloud’s head turned slightly again, and Sephiroth knew Jenova was speaking to him, but he also knew he was considering it. He had made his case, and he couldn’t stop her from making hers.

Still, eventually, that wall between them came tumbling down.

Reunion sang in their blood. They gasped at the same time, fingers tightening together. Their free hands came to clutch the other’s knee, moving in perfect sync. They leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, both with pinched brows as they fought to catch their breath. A shiver ran down the spine of each.

They finally felt whole.

Gods, but he had missed this.

The love and light that filled their reunion was slowly spoiled by a pocket of darkness in the back of their now shared awareness.

 _Sephiroth¸_ Jenova greeted, and suddenly, he understood a little of Cloud’s position. Her voice was sweet and kind, with the full breadth of a mother’s love in it. The mother Sephiroth had never had. A piece of him yearned for that; there was a connection there, one that he could have if he just reached out to take it—

He slammed down on that thought quickly and harshly. He could feel a ripple of displeasure from Jenova.

Without a word, Sephiroth began building a wall around Jenova, the way he knew how to build a wall between himself and Cloud. For her part, Jenova did not fight it, but watched with disapproval as her son looked on, refusing to help Sephiroth, but also refusing to help Jenova. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, between the two people he loved most, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

What he was sure of was that he was in for it the second he was alone with his mother again.

But for now, in that moment, they had their privacy.

“What couldn’t you say in front of Mother?” Cloud asked, and neither was sure if he actually said the words, or they just echoed in the space between their minds.

“Last time we spoke, we agreed that she might be influencing you.”

Cloud opened his mouth to protest, but it died quickly on his tongue. They hadn’t necessarily agreed to it, but they might as well have.

“ _Might_ be.”

“Might be,” Sephiroth agreed. “I offered you a way to check last time, and you said no, but only after you asked her. Couldn’t she have been influencing you then, as well?”

Cloud hesitated. Sephiroth plowed on.

“I can only give us privacy for so long. I know how to give you true privacy, and we can always undo it. We undid it before, when we didn’t even know what we were doing. All I’m asking for is a chance, Cloud.”

Again, Cloud hesitated. The silence between them lasted a long, long time, and had Sephiroth been anyone else, he would have interrupted him. But he was no stranger to silence, and he was a patient man besides. He could wait.

And it was best that he did. Eventually, Cloud sighed.

“On one condition,” Cloud said, and Sephiroth’s heart soared in the same moment that his stomach sank. “If I give you a chance, you have to give me one.”

Sephiroth’s brow pinched.

“What does that mean?”

“Let me argue my case, the way you’ll argue yours. You can speak to Mother the way she just spoke to you now, or I can relay her words to you—you don’t have to join with her the way I have if you don’t want to. But, like you said, there’re two sides to this, and I think you’re only seeing one, the same way I am.”

It was Sephiroth’s turn to hesitate. This was dangerous territory. This was asking—no, _begging_ for trouble. He knew Jenova could be persuasive, he knew what she had done to Cloud.

But, in a moment of ego, he was certain she couldn’t do it to him. After all, she had raised Cloud, groomed him to be under her sway. Sephiroth hadn’t had that same rearing, and knew the kind of poison she was. There was no way he would fall for her spell. He knew better.

This is what Jenova had been counting on.

“Alright. A chance for a chance,” Sephiroth agreed. “I’ll need to see you in person to do this, though.”

“Where are you?”

“Cloud, I can’t tell you that.”

“Then meet me in Nibelheim. We’ll have our talk there.”

It felt like a bad omen that he chose Nibelheim. Sephiroth told himself that it was because he had guessed correctly and Cloud was already making his way there. He refused to consider any other possibilities with bull-headed determination.

He nodded his assent, and Cloud softened again.

“Can we not talk about this, for just a little while? Can we pretend, just until you wake up?” Cloud asked.

There was no harm in it, and Sephiroth ached with longing.

“We can pretend,” he whispered. He leaned forward, taking Cloud’s face between his palms, his heart fluttering at the look on his face. Adoration, sweetness, softness, joy, love. Sephiroth kissed him softly.

And then he kissed him a little less softly.

And then he shifted, easing Cloud backward, until he was lying on his back, cradled in flowers.

And then they lost themselves in Reunion again.


	46. Chapter 46

Sephiroth woke, for the first time in a long time, in a pleasant fog. Usually, the transition to waking was quick. One moment he was asleep, the next he was fully awake, with no in between. Now, he was settled in a calm half-sleep. He barely registered Zack where he was leaning over him, his hand only just moving from shaking his shoulder. Sephiroth stretched without sitting up, groaning quietly at stiff muscles being stretched, before yawning and rubbing his eye. Eventually, he blinked his eyes open slowly, to see Zack standing frozen in place above him, looking baffled.

“You, uh, sleep well?”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Usually you’re up in two seconds flat.”

Ah.

Sephiroth shrugged and sat up, tilting his head and cracking his neck slightly.

“Pleasant dreams, I suppose.”

A painfully true statement.

Zack shrugged back and wandered off, leaving Sephiroth to ponder just how true that statement was.

He decided in that moment that there was no way he could tell Zack and Aeris about the dream. Zack, in particular, would assume it to be a trap. Aeris would question his judgement and his motives. They hadn’t been there, in the space between their minds where Cloud could hide nothing from him. He would have seen if it was a trap, would have seen if there was anything to be on guard about. Perhaps not the details of the trap, but there would have been a tension there. Not the details of the secret, but its silhouette. He knew there was no convincing way to explain to Zack and Aeris something that had to be lived through.

No. They would carry on to Nibelheim, the way they had been planning anyway, and he would say nothing about his conversation with Cloud.

Zack may have teased him a little, asking about what his oh-so “pleasant” dreams had been about and listing off possibilities (rooms full of expensive hair products being the top of his list), but Sephiroth kept his word and kept his silence. They proceeded through their day with no one the wiser.

No one the wiser about his “dream,” anyway.

There _was_ some alarm shortly after Sephiroth helped Aeris onto his back and they began running. Without prompting, she set about her work with his tether, the way she had while they ran for a while now. The second she set about her task, she pulled away with a gasp.

“It’s healed,” she whispered, mostly to herself despite the way it came out next to Sephiroth’s ear.

“What healed?” he asked.

“The tether,” she said with something like awe. “I’ve been trying to pull it away from you, fraying it, and now we’re back to square one.”

“It’s entirely healed again?” Sephiroth asked, unsure of where this left them.

“Entirely.”

“… Well.”

“‘Well’ is right,” she grumbled before heaving a sigh. “There’s nothing for it. I’ll just have to start over.” In an even lower voice, she said, “This sucks.”

Sephiroth had a hard time not laughing at that.

Because her griping was funny, firstly, but also because he hadn’t felt this good in longer than he cared to think about. Maybe it _was_ the tether—now that it was healed, it was also filling that yawning gap in the core of him, that painful emptiness that drained him slowly. Maybe it was the dream the night before. Maybe it was finally having a plan.

He couldn’t figure it out exactly, but after the growing dread and numbness, he wasn’t complaining about a pleasant day.

Zack and Aeris, however, weren’t sure what to do with it. They weren’t sure what to do with it, _especially_ when it began to drag on.

What was expected to be a one day fluke lasted day after day, into a week, into two. If anything, Sephiroth only seemed to grow more pleasant to be around. Zack and Aeris felt a little guilty about what the comparison implied, that they’d found him unpleasant to be around before, but quickly set that aside (Zack a little quicker than Aeris). When Sephiroth was almost _upbeat_ this way, it was easy to find him to be better, if still quiet, company.

The only lingering concern Aeris had was her progress with the tether. It seemed nonexistent. It _seemed_ like she spent all day making progress, only for it all to come undone overnight.

She didn’t know how right she was.

Primarily because she didn’t know the way Sephiroth was meeting with Cloud in his dreams every night.

They made a truce of sorts, an agreement that they wouldn’t discuss the matter at hand. There was a world to fight over, and they were firmly planted on opposite sides, but Cloud and Sephiroth missed each other so _much_. They didn’t talk of conflict in their dreams, or of Jenova, of Zack, of bloodshed or fire or war. Frankly, they didn’t talk about much at all. They didn’t talk much at all in general. They primarily curled up together, limbs slotting together in a way that was all too familiar, enjoying breathing in the other’s scent in comfortable silence.

It was all much easier when they weren’t talking.

When they were, things tended to get… tense. They couldn’t even discuss their days without getting dodgy, neither quite wanting to let the other know what they were up to. They could barely reminisce about when times _were_ good, because it always seemed to lead them back to something that had been spoiled.

What they did know was that everything got more intense the closer they got. The sensations of their dreams, which had started off foggy and vague, were coming into sharper and sharper clarity as they converged on Nibelheim.

The night before, when Sephiroth was camped just on the far side of Mt. Nibel, it felt as real as waking.

It had prompted Cloud to sigh, curling closer against Sephiroth chest and whispering, “You must be close, now. It all feels so real.”

Sephiroth hesitated. He had, to this point, avoided giving away his exact location. But he would be in Nibelheim tomorrow, what harm was there now?

“I am. Are you in Nibelheim?” Sephiroth asked, glancing down at Cloud just in time to see the blond look up at him. He expected a little furrow in his brow, some hesitance, not wide green eyes and perfect serenity.

“Yes,” he admitted, more easily than expected. “I have been for a while, now. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Something in Sephiroth’s chest clenched at the thought.

“I should be there tomorrow,” Sephiroth said before hesitating, thinking back to the needles and syringes they had bought from an apothecary in Rocket Town. “Do you still agree to our terms?”

A wave of seriousness passed over Cloud’s face, something as hard as it was brief, before smoothing away.

“I do,” he said, before looking away, settling back against Sephiroth’s chest. He didn’t seem inclined to linger on heavier topics. “I can’t wait to see you.” He drew small circles on Sephiroth’s shoulder with a fingertip.

“I’ve been looking forward to it. Probably more than I should have,” he admitted, a wry twist to his tone. Cloud glanced up at him before huffing a laugh.

“This is terrible, you know.”

“What is?”

“Being at odds this way. I don’t like it.”

“I don’t either. Hopefully, one of us will change their mind and we can settle this.”

The “hopefully _you_ will change your mind” was left unspoken.

But from the tiny downturn of Cloud’s lips, he noticed it anyway.

Instead of answering, of pressing Sephiroth to be the one to change his mind, Cloud rolled over and settled himself in Sephiroth’s lap, leaned down to kiss him, and let the matter lie.

Still, it couldn’t stay left like that forever.

From the moment Sephiroth, Zack, and Aeris woke, there was anxiety in the air. They all knew how close they were. They’d make it to Nibelheim today even if no one carried Aeris at all.

There was a strange silence in the air as they woke and went about their morning routines. Nerves. The anxious energy had grown to fill their entire camp before they managed to even break down the tents. They even got back on the road, climbing the winding mountain passes, without getting through the tense silence.

But it wouldn’t last, not if Zack had anything to say about it.

“So,” he started, making Aeris and Sephiroth both jump in surprise. “Nibelheim. We’re almost there.”

“True,” Sephiroth conceded, though it didn’t quite help the conversation.

The slight sigh Zack gave was an indication that he noticed how unhelpful it was.

“How long do you think it’ll be before we run into Cloud again?”

“He’s there already.”

Sephiroth cursed himself for the casual slip.

He still hadn’t told the others about his dreams. He’d made it sound so breezy, so sure, as if they’d just been on the phone and Cloud had told him as much.

Zack and Aeris were both looking at him in a way that said they’d noticed.

“I can feel it,” Sephiroth offered, a painfully vague explanation.

Yet both shrugged and accepted it. Neither fully understood the connection between Cloud and Sephiroth, so they could buy it.

“Is that why the call hasn’t been coming as often?” Aeris asked, peeking over Zack’s shoulder to look at Sephiroth from where she was perched on the SOLDIER’s back. “He can feel you coming closer?”

 _No,_ Sephiroth thought, but it was close enough.

He couldn’t say, “We agreed to meet there in the private conversation we had in our dreams,” after all.

“Likely.” Not technically a lie.

Aeris hummed, but let the matter lie.

After all, they would find answers soon in Nibelheim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be Nibelheim and shit will get real I promise! sorry if it's been a little slower these past few chapters, but it'll Go Down in Nibelheim. thanks for your patience!


	47. Chapter 47

The walk down to Nibelheim was awkward at best, but more accurately full of a tension that was nearly palpable. Zack carried Aeris today according to an agreement made between the two of them on the grounds that Sephiroth would need space today. When Sephiroth agreed that Cloud was likely already at Nibelheim, Zack only became firmer in that resolve. His friend would need to steel himself, work up courage, _something_ to face Cloud today—at least, he knew he would.

And Sephiroth, despite his best efforts, _was_ tense. He had seen Cloud last night, he’d seen in several nights running; this wasn’t really some long, drawn out reunion. But he hadn’t _seen_ him. And he certainly hadn’t been in a position to discuss what was on the table today. This wouldn’t be kisses and love and light. This would be harsh reality and harsher lines drawn between them and desperate attempts to yank each other over those lines. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t actually say he was looking forward to it.

Zack made a few attempts at stilted conversation with Sephiroth, but it never lasted long. Instead, Zack and Aeris talked until it became a pleasant hum in the background, something Sephiroth could hear but not necessarily listen to. The voices of his friends (because somewhere along the line, he started to count Aeris in that number) were soothing, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Sephiroth wouldn’t admit to it, but Zack noticed the way his shoulders relaxed slowly inched down from where they had been bunched by his ears (or were the subtle, Sephiroth equivalent).

Somewhere along the line, the hum of conversation melted into the building hum in the back of his head, a steady pressure-push against his mind. He didn’t realize until it had built to near breaking, until it was almost ringing in his ears like an echo that it was the feeling of drawing nearer and nearer to Cloud.

In fact, he didn’t realize it at all until they caught sight of the reactor.

Then it became clear.

He came to a standstill, his friends unwittingly passing him.

“He’s there,” Sephiroth uttered, interrupting Zack and Aeris’s conversation.

“What’s that?” Zack asked, turning around to look at Sephiroth.

“Cloud,” he said. “He’s there.” He nodded to the reactor in the distance.

The atmosphere sobered quickly.

“We ought to hurry, then.”

Conversation between Zack and Aeris stopped as the SOLDIERs began running full tilt, at a rate only they could sustain, toward the reactor. There had been a time for talking to mask the nerves, but it had passed. Each went about the process of putting themselves in the right mind to handle the upcoming encounter.

Zack had to find a fine balance. That was his friend they were going to see, his _best_ friend, his brother, someone he would die for. But it was also distinctly a stranger, or rather, an old nightmare he’d thought he’d never see again. He had to remember what was at stake on both ends of things. His brother could be lost forever if they didn’t do this right. The world could be brought to its knees if they didn’t do this right. Everything he cared about and a lot of things he didn’t were on the line, and that was a lot of pressure. The only thing that eased his nerves (though he felt distinctly guilty about it) was that _he_ didn’t have to do much of anything. It was almost all on Sephiroth’s shoulders. He wasn’t sure if the lack of responsibility was worth the feeling of helplessness.

Aeris was out of her depths. She didn’t know Cloud beyond stories, though by this point, she’d heard quite a few of them. She knew the tragedies of Nibelheim and Kalm, or at least as much detail as the SOLDIERs had been able to stomach giving her. She knew he had been little more than feral before, but that the labs had broken him. There was a pang of sympathy that went with that. She knew the labs, she knew them very well, but she didn’t know them the way Cloud must have, and what she knew was bad enough. Her heart broke for him, but the thought of who they would meet that day filled her with fear. She knew the stories of Cloud at Shinra, the kind man he’d turned into, but she couldn’t tell what to expect. She knew it wouldn’t be the Cloud from Shinra, but it also wouldn’t be the Cloud from the wilderness. This would be some strange combination that neither Zack nor Sephiroth could prepare her for. He was a wild card, and that, above all else, made her nervous.

Sephiroth—well, Sephiroth was full of so many emotions that he couldn’t put a name to most of them. There was so much hope and so much dread pulling him in two separate directions to the point of splitting in two. He’d come to know the new Cloud a little over the past few weeks, and he proved to be both strange and familiar. Someone had taken the Cloud he’d known and made him feral. He wasn’t the wildling Sephiroth had first met, no, but he also wasn’t quite so tame, either. He was the Cloud he’d come to love with all restraints pulled away. There was no tempering any part of him anymore, and that was particularly hard when it came to seeing his uncontained joy, his boundless love. It made it hard to remember what he was dealing with.

In fact, Sephiroth struggled with figuring out his position on the Cloud he would be meeting right up until he was standing before the reactor, staring at the door.

Zack came to a stop by his side, staring at the reactor door as well.

“He’s in there?”

“He is.”

“How do you… want to do this?”

Sephiroth raised a hand to rub at his brow.

“I’ve spent weeks trying to figure out what to say to him,” he admitted. “I still don’t have a clue.”

Zack offered a laugh, but it was weak.

“Improv it is, then.”

“It seems so.”

He took a few steps before Zack followed, Aeris lingering in the background, unsure if it was wise to enter. On a whim, he trailed his eyes all the way up the reactor, and then promptly froze.

Far, far up above, perched on a railing, sat Cloud, his feet dangling in the empty air, kicking back and forth.

He gave a bright smile and then pressed a finger to his lips.

Zack ran into his back.

Sephiroth quickly looked forward again (why did he look away at all?).

“You okay?” Zack asked, peeking over his shoulder, only to find nothing amiss.

“Fine,” Sephiroth said, beginning to walk forward again, but the pressure in his head was building at a breakneck speed. He climbed the stairs leading into the reactor mechanically, his hand trailing over the railing, his eyes staring blindly ahead. Gods, but it was like being miles underwater, like his head was in a vise. He blinked slowly, as if he had to force the motion. Something was wrong.

It only grew worse as he climbed the stairs inside the reactor.

But when he came to the top of the stairs and pressed the button to open the door, it came to a head.

His vision swam, his world upended in a rush of vertigo. Everything was a confusing mix. His hearing was both dull and too sensitive, everything hum and click of the reactor painfully loud yet so far away. His vision was both blurred and clear, like a perfectly focused camera moving just a hair too fast. He was there, he was present, but there was something keeping him just a hands-width away from his own body.

He didn’t realize the heart of the issue until, seemingly on its own, his body turned and began making its way back down the stairs.

“… Sephiroth?” Zack asked, voice a booming whisper.

It was so hard to hear, _so_ hard, because everything was suddenly a call of his name. The lights in his eyes said _Sephiroth_. The glancing pressure of the railing beneath his fingertips said _Sephiroth_. The smell of mako in his nose, the buzzing of the reactor, the faint rush of mako through pipes, _Sephiroth, Sephiroth, Sephiroth_.

It seemed to come from a thousand voices. It seemed to come from only one. It seemed to come from a thousand copies of that one, sweet, familiar voice.

 _“Shhh_ ,” that voice said in the very back of his mind, accompanied by the feeling of arms settling around his shoulders. _“Just relax. Let me._ ”

For a second, he did relax. It was easy, so, so easy to melt back into that embrace and forget everything else around him, cocooned in the feeling of being wanted.

But he had a mission. Obligations. Duty. And he was nothing if not a determined man.

He blinked, shaking himself out of his haze, only to, in a sudden panic, pull his strike at the last moment.

There was Aeris before him, looking as panicked as he felt, with Masamune’s tip not an inch from her chest.

He stayed like that for a long moment, his mind a whirlwind.

He had just been in the reactor. He couldn’t have been out for more than a second. When did he get here? Why was he here? How was he here?

“Sephiroth?” Aeris asked, and it pulled him fully back to present. Her voice trembled, and it was small, but it was determined. She was forcing herself to reach out to him, despite her fear and confusion, but she was committed to her choice. She always did have a spine of steel.

“Aeris, I—”

A sudden rush.

_“If you want something done right, do it yourself.”_

A building of pressure.

 Reunion, reunion, _reunion, **reunion—**_

Sephiroth moved, and in one jerk of a motion, pushed Aeris out of the way and blocked the strike that came from the sky.

Cloud landed in front of him, his blow parried, face morphing into utter disappointment.

He had leapt from the railing he was sitting on and, letting gravity do the work, gone to strike Aeris down himself when Sephiroth failed.

Sephiroth’s movement had been so last-second, so hurried that he didn’t have time to have the right form. He fell, one hand and one knee in the dirt. With only one hand on his hilt and both of Cloud’s swords pressing against it, there was no doubt how this would end, if Cloud was serious.

But Sephiroth wasn’t his target. Never was.

“Zack!” Sephiroth called, just barely getting out of the dust in time to cut in front of Cloud where he moved to change the course of his attack, angling for where Aeris was scrambling to her feet. This time, he had just enough spare milliseconds to get into a decent form before their blades crashed, preventing him from being sent to the floor again.

Cloud jumped back, in his standard deceptively loose stance, blades low but at the ready.

Sephiroth shifted into his own standard guard, his hilt at his ear.

“You should have let me,” Cloud said, his voice riddled with disappointment.

“What happened to talking, Cloud?”

“We can talk as soon as she’s dead.”

“ _Why?”_

“She’s poison, Sephiroth. I have to get rid of her before she ruins anything else.”

“Did Jenova tell you that?”

There was a telling pause.

In the background, Aeris had gotten her feet under her and run into the reactor, with Zack standing guard at the staircase leading in.

Sephiroth plowed ahead, saying, “Didn’t we agree that we needed to talk about that? Two sides of the argument, Cloud.”

His lips twitched down.

“I’m not safe while she’s here.”

“She’s a civilian, how could she ever hope to hurt you?”

“She isn’t human.”

Sephiroth only paused a second.

“Human or not, she’s a civilian. What are you afraid of?” he said, and as he spoke, he made eye contact with Zack. He tapped two fingers against his hilt three times. Zack nodded immediately.

Old Wutai hand signals.

_Disable._

“I’m _not_ afraid.”

“Then why do you want to hurt her?”

“Mother told me to.”

“Isn’t that part of the problem?”

If Cloud had hackles, they would have gone up.

He slipped just barely out of his battle stance in his rage. It created an opening.

“Mother couldn’t be further from a problem!”

A little more of a push.

“She pulled you away from your loved ones and made you burn every bridge behind you. That doesn’t sound problematic?”

The swords dipped a little lower.

“She’s only doing what’s best for me!”

“Or she’s being selfish.”

“How could you say that? You don’t even know her!”

The swords were at his sides, held in angry fists

“I say it because it’s true.”

“You never—”

Sephiroth took that opportunity to rush Cloud. The blond scrambled for a beat, but his reaction time was too good. He blocked the attack, but then again, he was supposed to. Sephiroth pulled it just enough that, when Cloud slumped under the Sleep spell Zack cast while he was distracted, he was able to drop his sword and catch Cloud before he hit the ground.

There was a long, tense moment of silence before Zack let out a loud rush of breath, coming to stand next to Sephiroth, then settling on the ground. Sephiroth let out the breath he was holding and closed his eyes for a moment. He shifted Cloud into a more comfortable position, his limbs no longer bent at awkward angles, but still held him cradled in his arms.

“You want to tell me what happened there, buddy?”

“I… don’t know,” Sephiroth breathed, still not pulling his eyes from Cloud’s face. “One moment I was in the reactor, then I blinked and I was about to skewer Aeris. I think he must have done something.”

“I didn’t think he could move you.”

“I didn’t either.”

The silence between them was heavy.

Zack sighed again and stood. He dropped one hand onto Sephiroth shoulder, squeezed, and then walked by him to go check Aeris.

Sephiroth brushed the hair from Cloud’s eyes.

Asleep, like this, he still looked like the Cloud he knew.

But they were going all the way back to the beginning, Cloud a danger to himself and others, only held in line by a tenuous string of Sleep spells.

Sephiroth let his head fall forward.

He had never wanted to get back to this point.


	48. Chapter 48

Zack held his tongue to let Sephiroth have his moment. He was hurting—how could he not be? The incident with Aeris was betrayal of the worst kind. Zack knew _he_ would be heartbroken, would have been a thousand times over by now. He didn’t know how Sephiroth had it in him to touch Cloud softly like that, to care for his comfort even while unconscious. It confirmed for him what everyone had always doubted: that Sephiroth was a good man.

“We should probably get this started,” Zack began, voice hesitant. Sephiroth was still having a moment, but he’d continue until interrupted, it seemed.

At length, the man sighed and nodded.

“Do you have the needles, Aeris?”

He looked over his shoulder at her and watched her nod. He shifted, letting Cloud lie on the ground, settling him as comfortably as possible.

“I can draw the blood,” he volunteered. It had been years since he’d done it, but he’d had some experience in the labs, mostly on monsters but the principle of the thing was the same. He’d certainly had it performed on himself enough times to understand the mechanics. Zack had less experience than he did, at least, which left them with few options.

Aeris nodded again and Zack grumbled his agreement. Aeris went to fish around in her bag and Sephiroth couldn’t help but look back at Cloud. There was something heartbroken on his face, which was its own kind of concerning, coming from a man so stoic.

“Here they are,” Aeris said, holding out a bundle of medical supplies toward Sephiroth, who sighed but moved toward them.

He reached out a hand to take them, but froze at the last second.

Suddenly, his head was full of static again, the pressure of an ocean filling between his ears.

_Not again._

The press of foreign will against his own was nearly enough to make his eyes cross. Instead, he blinked heavily, a furrow between his brows.

How was this even possible? Cloud was asleep! Was it Jenova herself?

 _“After all those dreams together, did you think sleep would separate us?_ ”

Sephiroth opened his mouth, to curse or scream or ask for help, he didn’t know, but instead, what came out was, “Maybe we should wait.”

He paused, astonished with himself. As much as the others were with him.

“Uh, probably not?” Zack said, looking as confused as Sephiroth felt. “We’re not going to get another opening like this. This is our best chance to end it.”

“I promised him we’d talk first.”

His mouth, but not his words.

“Yeah, well, he’ll forgive you once this is over and he can see sense again.”

“It’d be a betrayal of trust.”

“Sephiroth, what? A betrayal of trust was him trying to make you stab Aeris!”

 _Cloud, stop_ , Sephiroth begged in his mind, because apparently his mouth was out of his control. _We can undo this if we need to later, just let us try this first._

 _“No_ ,” he said immediately, a whisper in the space between Sephiroth’s ears. _“It will hurt Mother. I can’t allow that.”_

_Cloud, please, just trust me._

_“No, Sephiroth, trust_ me _. It will all be over soon, and then you’ll never have to be a puppet again.”_

Cloud, controlling Sephiroth’s body, bought time for the conversation by breathing in and then out slowly. Through the borrowed mouth, he said, “He must have had his reasons, and I want to hear them. If we agree afterwards, we can still do this.”

Zack looked at him through narrowed eyes, the look on his face sharp and thoughtful.

_You don’t have to do this. There’s a better way._

_“Your way is different, not better.”_

“Alright,” Zack conceded with a sigh, tossing his hands up. “Alright. But come here and draw this blood anyway so we have it. Just in case.”

Cloud’s silence in Sephiroth’s mind seemed suspicious, but he found himself stepping closer regardless. He took the tourniquet in his hands and tied above Aeris’s arm, telling her quietly to make a fist. He ripped open a little packet with an alcohol wipe inside it, which he passed off to Zack when he was done, before removing the needle and syringe from their packaging and screwing them together. He plucked the cap off the needle and handed it to Zack.

“Deep breath,” Sephiroth said before slipping the needle in. He clicked a vial for collection onto the port at the end of the tube connected to the syringe. He filled three vials before removing the needle and bandaging Aeris’s arm. He handed the vials to Aeris and the rest of the bloodied supplies to Zack, who was already slipping it all into a container made of thick, hard plastic. He went and slipped the box into their supplies.

“So, now we wait for him to wake up,” Zack said, putting his hands on his hips.

“We wait,” Sephiroth said.

He watched for a second as Zack walked toward Cloud before turning back to Aeris, who was still trying to find a safe place in her pack for the vials. He opened his mouth to suggest a side pocket, when an overwhelming wave of dizziness came over him.

 _“No. No!_ ”

As Sephiroth slipped into unconsciousness, he felt pride sweep through his chest as Zack’s very well timed Sleep spell.

 


	49. Chapter 49

Cloud was pacing furiously.

They were suspended in a black void, just him and Cloud, brought here because apparently they couldn’t be separated, even when both were under Sleep spells. Their sleep should have been dreamless, but here they were.

If there was a floor visible, Cloud would be wearing a hole in it.

“Cloud, it’s over,” Sephiroth said from where he was seated cross-legged on the ground, watching Cloud pace. “They’ll administer the samples and you’ll be out from Jenova’s spell.”

“There is no spell, Sephiroth! She never made me do anything, why can’t you see that?” There was a panicked edge to Cloud’s tone. It seemed like the only thing stopping him from pulling his hair out was the pacing itself.

“We’ll see if you still feel that way when they’re done.”

Cloud let out a cry of frustration as his head fell back with his eyes screwed shut, his hands forming impotent fists.

“There has to be a way,” Cloud whispered, mostly to himself. “There has to be _something_ I can do. Some way out. There’s always a way out.”

Sephiroth’s heart ached watching Cloud panic.

“Cloud,” he said, voice gentle as he could make it, “Just rest. Come sit with me and wait.”

Cloud froze in place to stare at him for a long, long moment, not even blinking. Sephiroth wasn’t sure if he was considering it or was offended at the suggestion.

Eventually, he hung his head and said, _“Fuck.”_

He approached Sephiroth, but his eyes were still flickering around anxiously, like a cornered animal. He sat across from him, a blond mirror, but he couldn’t sit still, fidgeting in place and worrying at his lip.

“Promise me you’ll undo it,” Cloud whispered, desperate.

“If you still want me to.”

“No, Sephiroth, _promise_ me.”

“I can’t do that.”

Cloud slammed his palm down on the ground.

“After _everything_ between us, you can’t do this one thing for me?”

Sephiroth’s heart broke but his eyes flashed.

“Cloud, that’s beneath you.”

Cloud’s lips pressed into a thin line before he looked away, letting out a harsh breath. Sephiroth reached out and took his fidgeting hands.

“Just breathe and wait. It will be over soon.”

Cloud didn’t seem very inclined to do either, but he found himself out of options. There was nothing left to do, nothing left to try. He was helpless, stranded here with Sephiroth.

 

“Zack, _what_?”

Aeris watched as Zack lowered Sephiroth to the ground, having caught him as he collapsed.

“I think that was Cloud talking for him. Waiting makes no sense strategically, and Sephiroth puts strategy first, always. If it _was_ Cloud, I didn’t want things to get violent again. If he was just being emotional, well, he’ll forgive me when he wakes up.”

Aeris looked unsure, but she nodded regardless. She rolled the vials in her hand for a second before looking back up at Zack.

“We should get this over with. Do you want to do it or should I?”

Zack rubbed the back of his neck nervously and said, “Have you ever done this before?”

She shook her head but added, “I’ve had it done a lot of times before though. I’d be comfortable doing it.”

“Maybe you should do it, then. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Aeris smiled, but it was a little nervous.

“I’m pretty sure as long as it gets in his body, it’ll work.”

“Hopefully, you’re right,” Zack said with a sigh.

Aeris prepared the needles and went to where Cloud was lying asleep. She knelt by his chest and took his arm into her lap. Very carefully and slower than she would have if he was awake and could feel what was happening, she slid the needle in and, in quick succession, pressed the vials of blood into his system.

She capped the needle and leaned back, watching Cloud closely, just as Zack was.

After a long, tense moment, he whispered, “How long do you think it’ll take?”

There was no one around to hear them, but she whispered back, “I don’t know. Will we know if it works when he’s asleep?”

“Shit. I don’t know.”

“Shit.”

 

Sephiroth could tell the moment they gave him the shots. Cloud froze in place, eyes going wide. He stayed like that, stock still, for a long moment before, silently, tears began to spill from his eyes.

Something in Sephiroth’s chest cracked.

He moved at once, shifting to his knees to wrap his arms around Cloud, whose hand were scrabbling at him desperately, his breath harsh and hitched.

“I did it again,” Cloud whispered, and he sounded broken. “I said I never would again, but I did.”

“Cloud, that wasn’t you,” Sephiroth murmured into his hair as Cloud pressed his forehead to his clavicle.

“It was! She was there, but I didn’t have to listen.”

“Cloud,” was all he said. They could argue this in circles, but the fact of the matter was that Cloud, at least on some level, was right. No matter how strong the compulsion, he was still the one who did the deeds. He could offer some esoteric arguments that might help later. For now, the best thing to do was to hold Cloud as he sobbed.

It was like he was watching his lover shake himself to pieces.

This close, this entwined in their dream space, Sephiroth could feel the echo of Cloud’s pain, and it was enough to take his breath away. He had one hand gently cradling the back of Cloud’s head, but the other was fisted in his shirt, desperate to keep him close. He tried to send reassurance back to Cloud the same way the grief had come to him, and he wasn’t sure it worked. It didn’t change his reaction, and it didn’t change the guilt and sadness that threatened to drown them both.

Cloud, for his part, had never felt worse in his life.

The first time he came out of Jenova’s influence, he had been cushioned, in a twisted way. There was no way to spend time feeling guilty when he was under Hojo’s knife. He was distracted, and by the time he really hand a chance to process what he’d done, what _Jenova_ had done, the blow had been softened. This time, it hit him hard, right where it hurt.

He had never felt so _betrayed_. He’d loved his mother, loved her with his whole heart. The world turned for her, the stars burned for her, he would have done _anything_ for her. That love was buried deep in him, etched into his bones and written into the rhythm of his heart. When he was connected to Jenova, he couldn’t help it. Trying not to love her and listen to her was like trying to fight gravity. And she always seemed so reasonable, so _right_. She knew just what to say to wrap him tight around her finger.

He could see it, now, how he’d been played. How Jenova worked in inches instead of miles, changing his mind by degrees, his love for her the oil that kept the gears of her machinations running smooth. She knew he was always open to listen to her, that he _wanted_ to trust her. He’d made an easy target.

The only tie strong enough to challenge her own was Sephiroth’s, but she knew how to play that, too. She wove his love for him into her plans, shifting her narrative just a hair to allow room for him. It was just another string to bind him closer to her. She’d convinced him he had lost his way, that he wasn’t seeing sense but could be saved. It was clever in that it worked around Sephiroth’s own protests. She undermined his attempts to help before they were even made.

There was no Nibelheim or Kalm, but there was the Shinra ship. It wasn’t a full town of civilians burned to death so they suffered their last moments. But it was wholesale slaughter, an unwarranted massacre. And that hurt, cut him _deep_ , because he knew how easily he agreed. He hadn’t put up a fight at all, didn’t even question it. Jenova said, “Jump,” and he said, “How high?” It filled him with shame to know how many people died on the altar of his love for her. The body count was already high—he hadn’t needed it to go higher.

His entire life was a testament to the dangers of devotion.

It made him afraid of all of his ties. He listened so blindly to Jenova out of love, what if the same thing happened with Sephiroth at some point? Could he talk him into doing anything? Because they were tied together, inexplicably so, and his love for Sephiroth ran as deep as his love for his mother. It filled him with fear for a moment, like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. But then he settled. He remembered that Sephiroth had always tried to lead him away from Jenova, tried to teach him to have a moral compass when his own had been broken. He could trust Sephiroth.

But he’d thought he could trust Jenova too.

“What are you afraid of?” Sephiroth whispered into his hair, and Cloud stiffened, damning their connection and the fact that he hadn’t bothered to wall himself off.

“I would have burned the stars for her,” he muttered.

“I know,” he said softly, heartbreak in his voice.

“I would burn the stars for you.”

Sephiroth paused and then leaned away, his hands on Cloud’s shoulders as he did so. He reached up and cupped his face between his palm, using his thumbs to brush away the tear tracks.

There were a thousand things to say in that moment. A thousand promises, a thousand reassurances. They all seemed too small.

Instead of offering any of them, he said, “I don’t want the stars to burn.”

There was a long moment that was nothing but shaking breath, spilled tears, and trembling lips. Then, in a flurry, Cloud shot up and wrapped his arms around Sephiroth’s neck. He buried his face in Sephiroth’s neck, choking on his own breath. He could feel it when Sephiroth reached up to press him closer, hands as desperate as Cloud’s own.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

In response, Sephiroth kissed Cloud’s head.

It wasn’t a fix, but it was a start.


	50. Chapter 50

Sephiroth knew before he woke that Zack had cast another Sleep spell on Cloud. The blond had disappeared from his dreams only to reappear seconds later, blinking in surprise.

Then he had looked sheepish and said, “I guess I earned that.”

The precaution _was_ fair, but he wasn’t going to say that.

Moments later Sephiroth woke slowly, groggily, his body fighting off the last scraps of the spell. He sat up slowly only to find Zack and Aeris staring at him in relief.

“Hey,” Zack called, coming over to sit at Sephiroth’s side. “Sorry about the Sleep spell. You didn’t sound like you, so I thought it might… was that you?”

“No, it was not,” he confirmed, stretching his neck from side to side, shaking the last of the spell.

“Oh, good,” Zack sighed. “Well, not good, but I’m glad I didn’t knock you out for no reason.”

“It was helpful, in its own way. Cloud and I were stuck in the same dream.”

Zack blinked owlishly.

“Seriously, I’m never getting over how weird this thing with you two is. Okay, do you know if it worked, then?”

“It worked,” Sephiroth confirmed, suddenly solemn. “He feels about as we expected him to.”

Zack winced, saying, “I’m not sure if that’s better or worse. I’m glad his conscience is back, but I don’t like seeing him suffer.”

“Neither do I. But between the guilt and the betrayal, there was really no other way this could have gone.”

“How do you think we can help?”

“We can try not talking about it,” Cloud said.

Zack and Sephiroth looked over to see Cloud rubbing his eyes but sitting upright. Sephiroth suspected he was rubbing his eyes more so he wouldn’t have to look at them than out of any lingering tiredness.

“If that’s what you want,” Zack conceded. He stood and went over to kneel next to Cloud, pulling him into a tight hug. “I missed you, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid,” Cloud said automatically, in spite of the way that he was hugging Zack back just as tight. He hid his face in Zack’s shoulder and they stayed like that for a long moment, clutching each other close. Sephiroth looked on with relief. Some part of him had been afraid that the breakdown in their dream had been an act, but he didn’t think Jenova’s Cloud could stomach touching Zack for so long.

Zack pulled away eventually and Sephiroth shifted closer so that they were sitting next to each other. Cloud reached out and took his hand the second it was within reach and held it tight like a lifeline.

And then he looked past Zack to Aeris and froze.

His expression was tight, conflicted. Sephiroth couldn’t guess what the riot of emotions behind it was, only that they were intense.

Cloud was struggling to handle the sight of Aeris. He’d only known her as a threat to his mother, something hateful and dangerous that had to be eliminated at all costs. He knew he shouldn’t hate her, but it was a reflex. The fact that she was with Zack and Sephiroth didn’t help. Her, alone, with the only two people who still mattered to him, as if she’d replaced him. A threat on all accounts. How dare she?

When the hatred became clearer on Cloud’s face, Sephiroth pulled his hand free to wrap it around Cloud’s bicep, saying, “Cloud, she was your cure. She was how we separated you from Jenova.”

Cloud visibly sat straighter, expression conflicted again as the hatred he couldn’t quite quash mingled with reluctant gratitude.

“Thank you,” Cloud ground out, like gravel, like broken glass.

The tension lingered, and there was a growing urgency to diffuse the situation before it spun out of control.

“Hojo used her DNA to separate you and Jenova,” Sephiroth explained, watching him closely. “He had access because she was in the labs. Her whole life.”

It did the trick. Cloud softened, the anger doused. Sephiroth didn’t add that her time in the labs was more like his own than Cloud’s. A lie by omission, perhaps, but if it made Cloud more sympathetic, it helped. He just didn’t have it in him to hate anyone who’d been in Hojo’s “care.”

“I regret a lot of things that I’ve done. Killing him isn’t one of them.”

And Aeris, sweet Aeris, got something like flint in her eyes. There wasn’t anger, there wasn’t gratitude, but there was an understanding that passed between them. She wouldn’t miss him either.

Aeris came to sit cross-legged in front of Cloud and held out a hand, spine straight and refusing to be cowed. She wouldn’t allow herself to fear this man.

“My name is Aeris,” she introduced.

Cloud looked at her, then down at her hand, then back at her, evaluating. Eventually, he took her hand and shook it firmly.

“Cloud. But I guess you know that.”

“I do.”

“How much _do_ you know?”

“Everything, Cloud,” Sephiroth said, and it was his turn to be glared at.

“ _Everything?_ ”

“She was putting herself in a very dangerous situation, as you know. She had a right to understand how dangerous it was before entering it. Her, and the others we were traveling with.”

Cloud’s face grew hard.

“How many people did you tell?”

“Three others. Two members of AVALANCHE and a girl from Wutai.”

“ _Sephiroth_.”

It stung. There was a very good reason Cloud kept his past to _himself_. He was content with only Zack and Sephiroth knowing everything. Four strangers? Not as much.

“Cloud,” he said as gently as he could, “you didn’t leave us many options.”

“You didn’t have to tell them _everything_.”

“As I said, they had a right to know what they were getting themselves into. I won’t apologize for that.”

Cloud looked like he wanted to argue more, but, after glaring at Sephiroth for a long moment, he sighed. He knew how stubborn Sephiroth could be. When he was convinced he was right, there was little that could be said to sway him. They would have to agree to disagree, and there was nothing to be done about it now regardless.

“They told me the bad, but they told me the good, too,” Aeris said, something soft in her expression. “They were determined to save you, not kill you. I’m looking forward to seeing what they do.”

Cloud watched her warily. He knew his perception of her was poisoned by Jenova, but she seemed much kinder than he expected. It left him thrown off. He nodded.

“What do we do now?” Cloud asked the group, though he was looking at Sephiroth. “I can’t go back to Shinra, not after what I did in the labs.”

“You’d be surprised by what they’re willing to sweep under the rug,” Sephiroth said with a shrug. “But I agree, going back is extremely risky. All of our options now are risky.”

“What _are_ our other options? Hide in the wilderness and hope that Shinra doesn’t find us?”

“There’s that. Or we ally ourselves with anti-Shinra factions.”

Cloud looked at him like he was crazy.

“Why would we do that? Shinra’s massive and would throw all of their _huge_ army at us.”

“We wouldn’t be alone. Depending on how we go about this, we could have quite a lot of help.”

“You have a plan, don’t you?”

The look on Sephiroth’s face was leaning decidedly toward smug.

“I have a plan.”

“Share with the class?” Zack asked, looking between them.

“Yuffie. If we can get her to vouch for us, we could potentially get Wutai on our side, and if there was a large, anti-Shinra force, AVALANCHE would come with us. I have no intention of restarting the war, but if it came to that, we would win. Wutai was always fierce, and Shinra will be missing its top operatives and have no truly capable leaders. There’s also the potential that SOLDIERs would defect with the three of us aligned with Wutai.”

“You’re _crazy_ ,” Zack said, with a look of horror and awe on his face.

Sephiroth shrugged.

“You and I won that war, Zack. Shinra can’t do it again without us.”

“The SOLDIERs would come,” Cloud said with a surprising amount of confidence. “Their loyalty, as long as I’ve been a SOLDIER, has been to the program, and you two. They’re SOLDIERs first and Shinra second.”

Zack looked between Cloud and Sephiroth.

“You’re _both_ crazy.”

The two shrugged in sync.

“We don’t have to decide now. A lot of this depends on the other three. But it’s an option.”

“Being a hermit or overthrowing Shinra? Great options,” Zack grumbled, climbing to his feet. “I’m going to go call the others. They ought to know about…” He gestured vaguely at the three of them before walking off to make the call.

“Should we camp here tonight?” Aeris asked, looking between the two. Sephiroth looked at Cloud, who shrugged. When Sephiroth nodded, Aeris stood, saying, “I’ll go start on the camp, then.”

Cloud watched until he was sure Aeris was occupied before leaning against Sephiroth’s side, his head on his shoulder. Sephiroth wrapped one arm around his shoulders.

“I want to do your crazy plan,” Cloud mumbled, watching as Aeris started unpacking tents.

“Oh?” Sephiroth said, looking down at him, watching as he nodded.

“I’ve never liked Shinra; any company that would support the labs like that should be torn down. I think it might help me make up for all the wrong I’ve done. Gods know the list’s long.”

Sephiroth hummed, resting his chin on Cloud’s head.

“We both have plenty to atone for.”

“One of us a little more than the other.”

“You didn’t see the Wutai War, Cloud. If we’re talking about lists, mine would be longer.”

Cloud pulled away to look up at Sephiroth. He expected him to look as haunted as he felt, but he merely looked resigned.

Sephiroth shrugged, saying, “I’ve had more time to come to terms with it. You’ll make your peace sooner or later.”

Cloud sighed and rested his head on Sephiroth’s shoulder again.

“I hope so.”

“Trust me.”

 

“It worked,” Zack said into the PHS, keeping one eye on the couple sitting in the snow.

“What worked?” Tifa asked, voice tinny with the PHS’s poor reception on the mountain.

“Aeris’s blood. Cloud’s back to normal now.”

“Not crazy anymore?”

“Not crazy anymore. He feels like shit, though.”

“I damn well hope so. What now?”

“Sephiroth’s got some harebrained scheme, but I think you should hear it from him. Where are you guys?”

“The desert around the Gold Saucer. It’s hot as hell, by the way.”

“It’s freezing here in Nibelheim, if that makes you feel any better. We can meet you down in Cosmo Canyon; I think that’s the best mid-point between where we are.”

“Okay.” Tifa gave a long pause. “Are you bringing Cloud with you?”

“Yeah, we are. The harebrained scheme involves him too, and I think you all should meet him, besides. Now that he’s back to normal.”

“I don’t know how that’ll go, but we can try. Stay safe on your way to the Canyon.”

“You too, that desert isn’t fun.”

“It’s not. And Zack?”

“Yeah?”

“Watch your back around him. I know you trust him, but wait a while and make sure it _really_ worked before you let your guard down.”

“Tifa—”

“Promise me.”

“… Okay, Tifa. I promise.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon. I think we’ll beat you there, so I’ll call when we get in.”

“Thanks. See you soon.”

“Bye, Zack.”


End file.
